


Menial, Unimportant, and Broke

by Condescending_Cucumba



Category: EXO (Band), Red Velvet (K-pop Band), f(x)
Genre: All The Ships, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Background Relationships, Bad Spelling & Grammar, Bad Writing, Cliche, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Eventual Relationships, Failed attempt at humor, Fluff and Crack, Hint of Angst, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Tried, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I think?, M/M, Mentions of SuLay, Mild Language, Mild Smut, OT12 (EXO), Slice of Life, Slow Burn, TV Tropes, Weekly Updates?, chapter checkpoints, fluff?, lots of different writing styles, mainly xiuchen, mentions of chanbaek, pretty cringey haha, random idols that appear once or twice, screwed up last names, start reading at whatever chapter, thanks for reading!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2019-11-14 18:58:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 56,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18058187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Condescending_Cucumba/pseuds/Condescending_Cucumba
Summary: Whether tall or short, female or male, Korean or not, all the people Jongdae know seem to be penniless college students, evil old people, and/or total crackheads.*There is no real storyline, just a series of vignettes pounded into semi-relevant plot points.:)





	1. Free Bagels

**Author's Note:**

> Um, so this is my first fanfic ever? It's not going to be good(the content is actually quite bad), and as you can see, I'm not really much of a writer. I've planned out more than a hundred chapters, and I promise to update at least once per week.
> 
> Hopefully, this will teach me how to write.
> 
> If you guys prefer AFF, I have an account over there as well. 
> 
> Welp, thanks for reading!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bagels are worth waking up for, each and every day.

 Jongdae would never get up at six in the morning. NEVER. It was already a struggle for him to get his lazy ass out of bed at the reasonable time of 8:30, so he had made a pact to never leave the safety of his mattress before 8:00.

 Well, unless if there were free bagels involved. For bagels, Jongdae would have ~~gladly~~ made an exception.

 As he stomped through the apartment hallway, struggling to force his eyes open, the weary looking boy cursed Baekhyun. _Screw you Baekhyun_ , he thought angrily. It was without a doubt that the reason that Jongdae had woken up today before the sun was even up, face down in a puddle of ice water was because his lovely roommate had orchestrated an elaborate wakeup call, consisting of several speakers blaring tuba noises, a row of LED flashlights, a bucket of water, and makeshift pot-lid cymbals that left the poor boy thrashing around in his room, smothering his ears with a pillow.

* * *

_“But Baek!” he protested. “You’re already up! The cafe is just a short trip downstairs! Can’t you go get the bagels yourself?”_

_Baekhyun shook his head and crashed the pot-lids together again, causing Jongdae to flinch._

_“ARE YOU CRAZY?! I WOKE UP THIS EARLY JUST FOR YOU, AND THIS IS WHAT I GET BACK IN RETURN?!”_

_“What?”_

_“GET ME THE GOODS JONGDAE, OR I WILL HAVE TO RESORT TO EXTREME MEASURES!” His roommate wagged a menacing finger in front of his face, and Jongdae ignored him, rolling over in his bed and burying himself under his duvet._

_“You’re a total dick, you know that?” Jongdae groaned as Baekhyun yanked the bedding from under him with a loud, exaggerated shriek. Baekhyun ignored him and manhandled him onto the floor in a matter of seconds. Jongdae hit the ground with a loud thud, and groaned audibly, rubbing the back of his head and feeling for a welt that was beginning to rise up._

_“There,” Baekhyun said, pleased, “now that you’re up, you can go get the bagels. The cafe is opening in three minutes anyways.”_

* * *

 So, that was how Kim Jongdae found himself being shoved out the door, coat and shoes still in hand by the ever-so deranged Byun Baekhyun.

 All in the name of bagels.

 He dragged his feet down the stairs, and towards the sparsely decorated lobby, praying that he wouldn’t trip.

 Through the windows, the sun shined halfway above the horizon, painting the sky in strips of pink, orange and blue. He tugged at his scarf one more time while inspecting the weather. It was mid-September, halfway where summer melts into fall and in Jongdae’s opinion, the epitome of gross weather. It was cold enough that you had to wear a jacket and scarf, but hot enough that you would feel stuffy if you had it on for more than thirty minutes at a time. Not to mention the dead leaves; giant eyesores with shades of rotting brown, and the dry wind that blew them everywhere.

As he pulled open the lobby doors and stepped out onto the sidewalk, Jongdae felt a blast of cool air hit his face. The leaves crunched under his shoes as he trudged down the path leading to the cafe.

 Outside, it was eerily quiet. The apartment and cafe were located on the street right beside one of the busiest roads; the one that lead to city centre, and rush hour was nearly enough to make one’s ears ring for the next few hours, especially on weekdays.

 Wait, he thought, and he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. _What day is it?_ He thought for a bit, probably looking like a weirdo or an idiot as he counted on his fingers. Baekhyun had forgotten to give him his phone as he was kicked out. _Oh. Dammit. It’s Tuesday. Kill me._

 Well…….whatever. He could always worry about university later. For now, he was a man on a mission. As he reached the end of the winding sidewalk, he looked up. The sign outside of the cafe was painted a creamy white, with large wood block letters that proudly read EXODUS est. 2012. The well-worn blackboard sign was propped up by the door, declaring today’s special to be something very artisan and definitely expensive.

 The bell jingled when Jongdae forced the door open, and the barista stared blankly at him while he walked towards the ordering station.

 “Good morning, Jongdae.” She arched a perfect dark eyebrow and stared him up and down.

 “Morning, Irene.”

 “How can I help you today?” Her eyes were glazed over while she repeated the prescribed response.

 “I’ve come to collect my portion of the deal.” Jongdae tried his best to stand up straight and look assertive, but his stomach came protruding out instead. Irene rolled her eyes.

* * *

_“I really don’t understand why you want me to pick Yeri up and walk her home. I mean, she’s seventeen and perfectly capable of walking across the street by herself.”_

_“I’m not a fool, Kim Jongdae. You and I can both see that she doesn’t use the crosswalk. You’re supposed to make sure I don’t end up scraping her brain off the side of a Toyota Prius.” Irene shook her head in annoyance. “You take the same bus to school anyways. I just need someone to look out for my baby sister.”_

_“But-”_

_“BUT WHAT?”_

_“But-”_

_“Look. I’ll give you and Baekhyun free bagels for a month if you do it.”_

_“Is this a life-binding contract?”_

_“Two months. And I’ll even throw in free butter.”_

_“You know just how to get to me, don’t you.” Jongdae offered a sweet smile, and Irene turned away, feigning disgust._

* * *

 “I thought you forgot about that.” she muttered as she opened up a wax paper bag. Jongdae couldn’t help but drool a bit when Irene opened the bakery case and slid her hand in, pulling out two fresh, golden, fat looking bagels.

 The display case was at least two meters wide, and packed with a rainbow of freshly baked sweets, pastries and breads. The pies glistened with glaze from under the thick glass, and a blueberry tartlet winked shades of indigo and violet, glittering with rock sugar on top. The delicate macarons, more aesthetically pleasing than anything else practically begged to be eaten and Jongdae wanted to run off with the sandwiches, so he would never have to eat cheap, bland university food again.

 Irene popped two pats of butter into the paper bag and slid it across the till.  “Enjoy,” she said in a dull voice, and went back to mopping the floors. Jongdae left with a nod of acknowledgement, and clutched the bagels to this chest, enjoying the warmth while he strode the half-block back to the apartments.

 Ever since he and Baekhyun were college freshmen, they had been coming to the same cafe, and it had grown to become a necessity in his daily schedule.

 Wake up, get breakfast at Exodus, take the bus to uni, take the bus back, supposedly pick up Yeri now, go to his job, pretend to study, and go to bed. Repeat. Repeat. And so on. It had basically been that way for two years, and if he was lucky, only two more. He couldn’t really imagine his life being any other way, no matter how boring university was, how bad a roommate Baekhyun seemed to be, and how many bagels he could weasel out of overprotective sisters.

 He took the elevator up this time; since he couldn’t be bothered to use the stairs, and retreated down the hall to his room.

 “Baek? It’s me.” Jongdae suspected that his roommate was either playing video games, fast asleep, or had gone to visit his boyfriend.

 “Baekhyun? Hello? Is anyone in there?” Jongdae pounded at the door, and patted down his pockets. Another thing that Baekhyun had forgotten to give him. KEYS. He groaned loudly, exasperated and tired.

 “I swear to god, if it’s you playing these tricks again-”

 The door swung open to reveal Baekhyun, hair sticking up in all directions, holding a video game controller.

 “You made me lose my last match,” he grumbled. Jongdae shoved past him and set the bagels down on the kitchen counter, reaching in to grab one out of the bag.

 “Mmfh,” he said, mouth full. “These are sooo good!”

 Baekhyun snatched the other bagel, opening his mouth wide, and ingested half of it in a single bite, nodding in approval.

 “They taste even better with butter,” Jongdae remarked.

 Within minutes, the boys had decided they had their fill of breakfast; and each went their separate ways; Jongdae to take a catnap, and Baekhyun to play some obscure mainstream game. Once in his room, Jongdae quickly changed back into his pajamas, and flopped down back into his bed. If he rushed, he figured he could squeeze in an hour and a half of sleep, provided he didn’t have a second breakfast or shower. It’s not like anyone will really notice if I don’t shower, was the last thing he thought before he drifted off to sleep.

🥖🥖🥖

 The alarm clock blared noisily when Jongdae reached over to shut it off, but it was infinitely better than Baekhyun’s “alarm”. The display read 8:00, and much to his dismay, Jongdae didn’t have any time to waste. He bounded out of bed, and brushed his teeth quickly, before splashing some water on his face and examining his reflection in the mirror. His charcoal colored hair stuck out in every direction like it had been fried, and Jongdae tried to smush it down to make it look presentable. After, he hopped into the living room to gather his backpack, packed to the brim with assignments. Of course, none of them were actually done, but rather procrastinated on. Jongdae yanked his phone and keys off the counter and swung a backpack strap lazily across his shoulder.

 8:10. Baekhyun had already left in his car, like he usually did. A while back, he had offered to give Jongdae a ride to the campus, but the latter refused.

* * *

 

_“Wait,” he asked skeptically. “You enjoy riding the bus?”_

_“Yeah, sure. Also, I don’t want to be a burden.”_

_“We go to the same university. Is this about your sleeping habits? You know, if you didn’t have the need to be a lazy-”_

_“No, no. It’s fine. The bus is fine.” Jongdae interjected. ~~And also I don’t want to spend anymore time with you than I have to because as much as I love you, you are the most draining person to be around.~~_

* * *

 Jongdae sped walked down the stairs as fast as he could, throwing open the door and sprinting outside to the bus stop. 8:15.

 Once he was outside, he started panting, more than he would have liked to admit. _God, I’m really out of shape. I need to go to the gym more or something._

 The city bus pulled up to the curb seconds later, and Jongdae got on.

 “KIM JONGDAE!” The voice boomed from the back of the bus. “COME HERE!”

 “Hi. Sorry I almost missed the bus today…...oh, and thanks for saving me a seat…!” he quickly added. Jongdae adjusted his backpack as he sat down in the stiff plastic seat, and turned towards the one and only Chanyeol.

 Park Chanyeol was Baekhyun’s beloved boyfriend, and by default, Jongdae’s bus buddy, since he was too large to fit his lanky frame into Baekhyun’s tiny car. He was a tall, fair, modelesque man, with a rounded face and a toned body. Although he had won the genetics lottery, Jongdae seemed to think that his best friend’s boyfriend was little daft, and somewhat airheaded. Because you know….. if he wasn’t, why on earth would he be dating Baekhyun?

 “Baekhyun wanted me to tell you that he won’t be home tonight. He's staying over at my place. We’re going to have some one on one fun.” Chanyeol smirked.

 “Sounds...great. Did you do the assignment last week? I need to copy the notes off of someone, so the professor doesn’t yell at me.”

 “We don’t even have the same assignments though-”

 “Just hush!” Jongdae glared at him angrily. “Basically the same thing, then.”

 Chanyeol shook his head like a disapproving mother as he passed a stack of looseleafs to Jongdae. “You really need to start doing your work. If you keep on copying off of me, you’re going to fail uni. I think I bombed my last three assignments.”

 Jongdae didn’t look up from his rapid transcribing. “No problem. I’ll just borrow Junmyeon’s old work.” Chanyeol cleared his throat and struggled not to smile.

 “Maybe if you actually focused-”

 “Well, it’s hard to focus, isn't it, with all the loud-ass moaning coming from Baekhyun’s bedroom at 10 pm on a weekday!”

 The bus rattled past the next few stops, and Chanyeol’s cheeks flushed pink.

 “Here’s your homework back.” Jongdae grumbled.

 The two climbed off the bus and onto campus, already crowded with masses of students. It took them a little while longer to get to class, since Jongdae kept on insisting that he needed a washroom break and somehow, another thirsty freshman had approached Chanyeol for the second time that week.

 “Excuse me, sir.” The girl shamelessly strut over to corner the panicked giant. “I was hoping you could do me a favor,” she said suggestively, while twirling a long strand of hair. Jongdae looked on with a disgusted expression in front of the washroom.

 “Soooo…..” she said, moving in closer. “Could I get your number?” Chanyeol sputtered incoherently and locked eyes with a very revolted looking Jongdae. The girl pushed her face even closer to meet with Chanyeol’s chest(her head only came up to there), forcing him to take an awkward shuffle back. In the distance, Jongdae shook his head with disapproval. Chanyeol cleared his throat and straightened his back.

 “Are you blushing, oppa?” the girl cooed, which earned a cringe from Jongdae.

 “We’re not in Korea. You don’t need to call me that,” he squeaked out.

 The girl ignored him. “I’m Vivi. What’s your name, oppa?” She batted her eyelashes and gazed up at him. Jongdae thought he was going to be sick.

 “Chanyeol.”

 “Since you won’t give me your number, do you think, do you think you maybe want mine? I’m free on Thursdays and Fridays. Call me?” She moved even closer and placed a manicured hand on Chanyeol's chest.

 “I’m not taking that. I have a boyfriend.”

 Vivi’s eyes grew wide as she quickly stammered out an apology. “I’m sorry, really, I am-I didn’t know, I’m really sorry…I’ll be going now, I hope you have a nice day-I’m really so sorry.” She scampered off into the distance, hiding her face in her pink hair.

 “What is wrong with that bitch?” Jongdae wailed, walking towards Chanyeol, “She nearly assaulted you!”

 “Calm down Jongdae. It wasn’t even that serious. I can handle it by myself.” Chanyeol said, shaking off his friend’s concern. “Besides, at least she apologized.”

 “But it’s not fair!” Jongdae complained. “How come you get so many offers? I haven’t gone on a date in almost three years!"

 “It’s tough being friends with a model,” he griped, and Chanyeol tried his best to brush off the compliment and reassure Jongdae.

 “I’m sure it’s not anything to do with you.”

 “Yeah, right.”

 Chanyeol gave one last hasty wave to Jongdae, before they split and walked opposite directions to their classes.

 After heading down to the Botany Department, Jongdae walked into the classroom half-heartedly, and took his place at one of the too-small, too-old, too-weak desks. The professor was already deep into a lecture about plant phylogenetics.

 He glanced at the clock on the wall, which was taking ages to tick, and sighed.

 _It’s going to be a long class_.

📚📚📚

 After what felt like years of sitting in the god-awful classroom, the professor dismissed everyone. Jongdae was nearly ecstatic as he ran out of the department and flew towards the bus stop. He couldn’t wait to get home, especially when he had the whole apartment to himself for the evening. He could do anything he wanted, which definitely included NOT listening to Baekhyun’s voice blare into his ear while he tried to get his beauty rest.

 This time, he took the bus home without Chanyeol(Baekhyun had picked him up and they were probably at Chanyeol’s place fiercely making out). After the bus pulled up to the stop, Jongdae crossed the street and stood there for what felt like ages, checking his watch.

 At last, the school bus pulled up from across the street. The doors closed and opened, revealing a young girl with light brown hair and twin tails. She couldn’t have been more than seventeen years old, although her doe eyes and soft features made her look much younger.

 “Jongdae!” Yeri nearly tripped on the bus stop curb as she rushed over to greet him. Her shoulder bag bounced on her hip, the many novelty pins clacking together as Yeri jaywalked towards him. “Don’t mind the hair.” She gestured to a matted clump of grey-brown in her left pigtail. “Can you believe they still make us take art class in high school?”

 “No.”

 “Me neither! We’re making clay pots now. What did you do at the university?”

 “I don’t know. I didn’t pay attention. Something to do with plant evolutionary relations. I think…”

 “Pfft!” Yeri cut him off, waving a hand dismissively. “BORING!”

 The two of them walked past the apartment sign, a faded, orange plaque stuck into the ground that proudly read Golden Groves apartments. It was all a scam. There was no gold; there wasn’t even a garden in the whole building. Jongdae’s green thumb was itching to plant anything, just something, but the landlord was allergic to flowers, and he couldn’t get around that.

 “Well, guess what Joy told me today,” Yeri mentioned, once they were both inside the elevator. Joy was Yeri and Irene’s roomate, a struggling young poet.

 Jongdae pretended to be interested as Yeri babbled on, her youthful energy never faltering.

 “You know the old couple downstairs…?”

 “How could I forget those two-” He caught himself on the last word. Yeri was just a kid, after all.

 “Joy says that the old man is moving out. I passed by his apartment today to get a closer look and I think it’s true. His stuff is all packed up into boxes.”

 The old woman and man were notorious in Golden Groves, and Jongdae hated them both equally. The woman, Ms. Yeh, really was a bitter person, with a sour, turned down mouth and box dyed black hair. Seulgi liked to joke that she looked like a miserly, Asian version of Mrs. Doubtfire. The sleazy old man, Mr. Lee, who lived next door wasn’t any better either. When he walked(usually to shout at the other poor residents), he shuffled forwards jerkily and bent almost double over, so you could get a less than pleasant view of the rolls of his sagging potbelly. Both of them had been living at the apartments before Jongdae, and unfortunately they occupied the only two other rooms on his floor.

* * *

_Wendy and Junmyeon, the landlord, had been at the apartments longer than anyone and boy, they had a lot of stories to tell about the mad duo downstairs._

_“What do you think they are?” Yeri asked excitedly once. “Are they suffering through a lover’s quarrel? Are they siblings? Are they old rivals?”_

_“They’re petty demons, that’s what,” Wendy chimed in._

_“Damn right. Once, she refused to pay rent for a month because she found a dead moth in the corner of her closet and it was my ReSpOnSiBiLiTy as a landlord to keep HER apartment in immaculate condition.” Junmyeon huffed and Wendy scowled passionately as she told the next story._

_“I saw the man call the cops on a trick-or-treater once. It turned chaotic after the police arrived to arrest a little kid in a pirate costume._  

* * *

 “Really? I can’t wait. Who’s moving in?”

 Yeri shook her head. “I asked Junmyeon, and he said that someone will be buying the suite on the third floor. I really want to see who it is though! What if it’s a new friend?!” She squealed with childish naivety and the elevator pinged, coming to a stop.

 “I’ll see you tomorrow Yeri,” Jongdae said, before he left for his own apartment.

 “Goodnight!”

Once he was back home, Jongdae set his bags down, without being bothered to actually take out the lab report and finish it for once. He rummaged through the fridge, and settled on eating a light dinner; a sandwich with a glass of juice since he was sleepy anyways, and wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed. After, he took a quick shower and changed back into his pajamas.

 _I’m so tired._ The boy fell onto his mattress, letting himself be enveloped by the softness of his comforter.

 _Great. I’ll have to repeat this garbage again tomorrow._ Jongdae closed his eyes and laid down his head.

_I didn’t do my assignments, Baekhyun is out having a better time than me, Chanyeol gets more dates in a week than I do in five years._

 He tried to shake the thoughts from his mind, but he was exhausted.

_I’ll need to copy Junmyeon’s old homework. I’ll need to pick up Yeri every day now. I’ll need to wake up early to grab the bagels again._

 But for now though, he could just sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clairification? 
> 
> I wanted to set the story outside of Korea, because I didn't want to misuse any terms, and LGBTQ+ is attached to a lot of stigma in many conservative cultures. 
> 
> I think the setting is ambiguous, but I like the idea of a modern city, like Vancouver, San Francisco, or Denver. 
> 
> :)


	2. Jongdae the Common Crook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irene doesn't show up to work, and the new hire makes Jongdae uncomfortable on so many levels.

“Is Irene here today?” Jongdae drummed his fingers on the cafe countertop nervously. It was Wednesday morning, 7:00 am, and he was going to be seriously pissed if he had to waste 5 minutes of quality sleep time down here, instead of in the warm reaches of his bed.

  _I’m a lazy ass, I admit it._

 He looked around in the cafe, pretending to be interested at a red hair that had fallen on the ground. It would have been gross, if he actually cared. 

 Nope. Nada. Zilch. Nobody. _Weird,_ Jongdae thought.

 The cafe opened at 5:00 am sharp every morning. Even if pigs started flying, the cafe would **still** open at 5:00 am sharp every morning.

 “Hello?” he called out.

 He didn’t expect a voice to answer back, but it did. It was refreshingly light clear, with a joyful lilt at the end.

 Perfect for reading children’s audiobooks, Jongdae mused. And also definitely not Irene.

 The stranger came out of the other end of the kitchen, tugging at his uniform sleeves(a white collared shirt, dress pants and a striped apron). He stopped to stare at Jongdae. Or rather, Jongdae stared at him. He couldn’t look away.

 The new barista was a man, with rounded cheeks, pale complexion, fluffy blonde hair, and large, feline eyes that sparkled with curiosity. Without meaning to, Jongdae’s eyes stared down at his full lips, and accentuated jawline. His arms were surprisingly toned, where the rolled up sleeves met skin, and there was a warm aura to him. Jongdae wasn’t sure if he wanted to wrap him up in a hug, or keep on ogling.

 The two stood there, eyes boring into each other until the barista cleared his throat.

 “A-Are you checking me out?” The stranger cocked his head at Jongdae, crossing his arms.

  _Oh shi_ -Jongdae felt heat creep up his neck, twisting around his cheeks.

 “NO!” he snapped instinctively. The barista seemed startled for a second, before a smile played across his lips.

_Kim Jongdae, why the hell are you staring?_

 After a silent pause, the barista walked over to greet him, extending an arm. “My name is Minseok. I’m the new hire. It’s very nice to meet you.”

 Jongdae gave Minseok’s hand a quick and awkward shake, and suddenly become hyper aware of his own insecurities.

  _He was staring too! Oh god, I forgot to brush my teeth today. My hair looks like a rat’s nest. Is this the same crusty hoodie that I’ve worn for six times and forgotten to wash? And those eyebags! I’ve really let myself go…_

 He shook his head at the ground. _Stop it. You’re being ridiculous. He probably doesn’t even care about you, much less what you look like today._

 Jongdae didn’t even notice that the barista was still gazing at him until he snapped his head back up.

  _Jesus Christ._

 “How rude of me! I’m supposed to take your order!” Minseok nervously laughed and walked behind the counter. “What can I get you today?”

 “Is Irene here?”

 “Irene?” Minseok turned and yelled into the kitchen. “Is Irene here today?”

 The head chef, Sunny, poked her head out from the corner. “She called in sick today. Is there a problem with that?” She blinked once, then twice, before disappearing to pipe meringues.

 “No, it’s just..” Jongdae shook his head and thought about how he should phrase this. “We had a deal going on, where she basically promised me two months worth of free bagels.”

 Minseok looked unconvinced.

 “Really.”

 “I’m serious!” Jongdae whined, before realizing how pathetic he sounded. Minseok placed his elbows on the counter and leaned forward until their noses were almost touching, so close that Jongdae could see his reflection in his honey colored eyes.

  _I’m such a creep. Someone save me from this._

 “Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that’s true? Or are you just the typical common crook, looking for some free food?”

 “Wha-I-I-What?” Jongdae stammered, eyes darting around the cafe for someone to save him.

 “I need to uh-uh-use the washroom!” he quickly declared.

 Minseok watched with an amused expression as the boy retreated to the back corner of the cafe, ditching his backpack on the ground.

 “You’re scaring away our best customer,” Sunny chastised. She stood behind Minseok, hands on her hips. “He’s been coming here every morning for two years now.”

 “Sorry, boss.” He grinned to himself. “Is he going to be okay, or what? He looks like he's just had an existential crisis because of those bagels.” Silently, Minseok slipped a hand behind his back and reached into the display case.

 “Minseok,” Sunny warned, “you’re not supposed to give out free food. It’s a business, not a charity.”

 “Yes, ma’am.” Minseok sighed, and watched as Sunny rolled a trolley of eclairs back into the oven.

 Finally, Jongdae came out of the washroom, looking confused and disheveled.

 “Excuse me sir, are you okay? I didn’t catch your name before.”

 “It’s Jongdae. I’m leaving now, so don’t bother.”

 Jongdae refused to look at the barista while he quickly grabbed his backpack and fled the cafe.

 _I’m such a stupid-ass idiot_ , he brooded. _Can’t I have one interaction without making it socially awkward? And those bagels. Ugh._

 Jongdae nearly broke into a sprint as he tore down the apartment sidewalk. He couldn’t wait to put as much distance possible between him and Minseok. As he stomped up the stairs(Jongdae needed to vent out his energy), his foot caught on the edge of a step and he tumbled backwards, clinging onto the railing for support. Jongdae yelped, and his knee scraped the concrete step, exposing the raw pink flesh underneath.

   


 The scrape was nothing too bad, nothing that a large bandaid couldn’t fix. The skin was ripped off, with little dots of blood pooling at the surface. Jongdae rolled his pant leg back down and winced. He would have to limp the rest of the way back home, like the pathetic person he was. _Running away from perfect bartenders just doing their job responsibly...._

  🥖🥖🥖

 “What’s that in your bag?” Baekhyun asked. Jongdae was back in the apartment, taking off his jacket when Baekhyun pointed out the paper bag that was sticking out of his backpack.

“Huh?” Jongdae asked.

 He swung the bag onto the floor and opened up the back pocket, pulling out a crinkly package, stamped with EXODUS on the front. As he peeled back the layers of packaging, the smell of bagels hit him.

 Jongdae couldn’t help but smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha, I low-key hate myself for writing this trash, hahaha. 
> 
> Please-don't-kill-me.


	3. Pretty Reproductive Organs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minseok didn't know that people hired decorators for family gatherings.

 Minseok needed to take a nap.

 He had just gotten back from running the graveyard shift at the cafe, when his phone dinged. He sat up and rubbed his eyes wearily, opening the Messages app.

 

 Little Sis 😇😇😇

 hello?

 hello?

 are you up yet?

 minseok? minseok? minseok?

 IT’S AN EMERGENCY

Minseok

What is it?

This better be good...

I woke up for you and I haven’t slept in almost sixteen hours….

you know the family reunion that we were having today

the one that you’re NOT GOING TO

I already told you I don’t need that in my life

ok ok 😕

I’m going back to bed

no wait the decorator canceled 😠😠😠

Wait, people hire decorators for family reunions now?

Was that always a thing?

we need someone to go grab flowers

it’s for the centerpiece

No

please?

pretty please pretty please with vanilla chocolate honey and a cherry on top?

Just get your cousins to do it or something

Or just don’t get flowers?

Flowers are gross

Flowers are reproductive organs

STOP

It’s the truth

you still owe me one favor from last time though

you know, that time

No

yess

You’re evil

i’m RESOURCEFUL

I’m changing the angels to satan heads

🙄

i need the flowers in thirty minutes i’ll meet you outside the house

Ugh

When can a man sleep for once

Any colors in mind?

 

idk

idc

just don’t get white crysatmum

*chrysanthemums

these are old superstitious people

Ok

tysm though

I knew i could count on you

YOU ALMOST BLACKMAILED ME

true true

bye

I’ll see you in thirty minutes

* * *

 

 As much as Minseok would have liked to pass out and forget about the whole thing, he wasn’t sure if his good person mentality was forcing him to stay awake, or if he was just a pushover that couldn’t say no. He threw on a pink hoodie and made his way to downstairs to his car.

 Minseok pulled out of the parking lot and shook his head, sighing to himself.

 He would have to find a decent flower shop in town, but he hadn’t ever gone into one of those places, or cared enough to notice a nice establishment floating around. Up until a few months ago, he didn’t even know what a florist was. Also, to make matters worse, his “college student living alone budget” made it nearly impossible to afford any sort of navigation advice, so he would just have to make do with his pair of slightly nearsighted eyes.

 “Flower shop, flower shop, flower shop…” he mumbled to himself, adjusting the rear view mirror. Minseok had zero idea where he was going as he took a right and drove into the city’s newer suburbs. He had kept his eyes peeled the whole time; whatever that meant, but still, there was little sign of anything except for the occasional McDonald’s and Starbucks. Finally, his eyes darted towards the corner of a well-groomed street, bordered with neatly trimmed square bushes, and wilted purple blooms. Minseok parked the car in a secluded area from down the street, and paid the parking fee before strolling towards the flower shop.

 From outside, the store was a cute place, with a sea green awning, and little succulents that lined the windowsills. Rainbow pinwheels stuck out at odd angles in a mesh hanging basket, and Minseok reached for one with youthful delight, laughing when he blew softly to make edges spin.

 Inside the flower shop, was total disorder. He couldn’t help but feel in awe when he walked inside. Blossoms filled each and every corner of the place, with red, yellow, pink, green and blue. The arrangements, neatly stacked on a shelf, bursted with a refreshing scent. Minseok wanted to stop and literally smell the roses, which were full and plump with satin petals. He hadn’t even known that even something as seemingly simple as flowers could be somehow so diverse and richly complex.

 “Um, hello? You’re, uh...not exactly supposed to be touching that. Uh. Yeah.” It took Minseok a while to register the voice coming from behind him.

 “Oh. Sorry.” Minseok dropped the rose back into the spotted vase, and turned his face up to get a good look at the employee. His eyes widened, and Jongdae’s face mirrored his. He couldn’t tell who was more surprised.

 “What are you doing here?”

 “I….work here.” The response was surprisingly dull, and Minseok wanted to beat himself up for asking such a dumb question.

 Of course it made sense that Jongdae worked here. It seemed to suit him, at least.

 “I’m also a university student,” Jongdae quickly added. “I study botany as my major, which is why I took up this job. Also, I like flowers.” Jongdae’s expression seemed to sour a little bit at the last line. “Don’t you dare judge me.”

 “I wasn’t judging you.” Minseok held up both hands in surrender. “I think I like flowers too, now that I'm in this shop..." he said sheepishly.

 Jongdae’s shoulders untensed. “Oh.”

 It was weird seeing Minseok like this, without the classic barista uniform that all the employees at EXODUS had to wear everyday. Granted, Jongdae had only seen Minseok once, and that was yesterday, but the former felt that he was going to be more or less a permanent part of his life. Also, he snuck Jongdae a third bagel yesterday, which was nice.

 “Is there anything I can do for you today?” Jongdae wiped a smear of potting soil from the back of his hand.

_Look presentable._

 “Actually, yes. I was hoping you could help me choose some flowers for a family reunion. The decorator canceled.”

 “Wait, people hire decorators for family reunions now?” Jongdae shook his head like he couldn’t believe it.

 “I know! It’s so weird, but apparently….”

 The florist lead Minseok to the front of the shop, pausing once in a while to nudge a pot away with his foot or clip a cutting from a green branch.

 “Do you want an arrangement, or a bouquet?”

 “A bouquet would be nice, but I’m not exactly sure.”

 “You’re not exactly sure....?”

 “What flowers scream family reunion?” The corner of Jongdae’s mouth lifted, and Minseok smiled back, somewhat pleased that his lame not-joke had worked. The boy looked damn cute when he smiled, anyways.

 And with Jongdae’s adorable grin, whatever aloofness spell that had been cast over the two of them disintegrated instantly.

 “Is there a color combination?” Jongdae asked.

 Minseok shook his head. “I don’t know. Knowing my family, almost nothing’s good enough for them.”

  _Oof._

 “You know what,” Minseok corrected, “It doesn’t really matter. You should go with pink or white.”

 “Good choice,” Jongdae murmured, practically skipping around the shop in his newfound excitement.

 “A rose,” he singsonged, as he plucked the pink flower from a jar. Minseok followed him around, amused. Soon, a group of ranunculuses joined, followed by a vine of vibrant sweet peas. The florist leaped and bounded around cheerfully, trimming flowers and adding them to his clutch.

 “Beautiful,” Jongdae said, contentedly.

 Minseok struggled to hide his wide smile behind his jacket sleeve, and opted to fake a cough.

 Jongdae laid the flowers into a sheet of cellophane and elegantly tied them up with a coral ribbon, holding them out for Minseok to see.

 “Done! What do you think?”

 Minseok “coughed” again.

 “It’s more beautiful than I’ll ever be.”

 Jongdae beamed up at Minseok before handing him the bouquet. “It even matches your clothing.”

  ~~ _Pink is my favorite color._ ~~

 “That will be $24.99.” The florist said.

 Minseok handed over his credit card.

 “You know, I didn’t see you in the coffee shop this morning. It was only Sunny today.”

 The barista’s heart warmed. Was someone in the world actually implying that they wanted to see him?

 “She didn’t give me the free bagels either.” Jongdae pouted, and quickly noticed how entitled he sounded.

  _Kim Jongdae, be normal please._

 If Minseok noticed, he didn’t seem to care. “ I try to work as many shifts as I can. I’ve always wanted to be a barista,” he said. “There’s something really soothing about coffee. I can’t get over it.”

 Jongdae met Minseok’s eyes. “That’s exactly how I feel about flowers.”

 Minseok picked up the bouquet and Jongdae reached over to hand back the credit card.

 “Thanks for visiting. I’ll see you around…..Minseok.” The florist waved at him as he exited the shop.

 Once outside, Minseok was free to smile however much he wanted without looking like a weirdo. So he did just that, practically skipping back to his car, and grinning like an idiot. The bouquet was placed as gently as he could manage, into the passenger seat.

 Nothing was going to dampen his mood today. Not even potentially seeing his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, Biology class.


	4. Casserole?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing the new neighbors!

“Hello! We’re your new neighbours!”

“You bet.” Irene pushed open the apartment door and put her hands on her hips. Yeri bounded over excitedly, her half-ponytail bouncing in the breeze.

The two girls that stood by the door looked nothing alike; the first, lean and tall with short hair, pale skin, and an androgynous look; the second, a tanned girl with hazel eyes and orangey hair.

“Ooh! New neighbours!” Yeri beamed with her sunny disposition. “Junmyeon told me about you two!”

“Hopefully it wasn’t anything bad…” the second girl remarked sarcastically.

“Who’s Junmyeon?” the first whispered.

“Our goddamn landlord Amber. Are you serious?”

From the inside, a door slammed, and a third girl walked to the front entrance.

“Come here, Joy. They’re our new neighbours.” Irene huffed.

“Nice to meet you!”

“Wait, I still don’t know who Junmyeon is.” Amber stage-whispered. “Description please, Luna?”

“The guy who gave us our keys this morning. I can’t believe this.”

“Oh my god. That man who looks exactly her!” Amber blurted, pointing a finger at Irene. Yeri and Joy burst out laughing as Irene scowled.

“Doppelgangers, I tell you!”

Luna took a step back apologetically as Irene’s deadly stink eye radiated off her.

“Now that you mention it,” Joy said, mock wiping tears of laughter from her eye, “they look like twins.” Yeri lightly punched her sister in the shoulder.

“I look nothing like him!”

“Yes, you do.”

Luna cleared her throat loudly, and the attention diverted to her.

“I would just like to say that it’s nice to meet you three. We’ve recently moved into room 205.”

“We also brought you a gift.” Amber spoke up.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Luna reached behind her back and procured a standard glass dish, filled with chunks of something...and saran wrapped tightly.

“Here you go.” She dropped it into Joy’s open arms. “It’s a casserole.”

The three girls looked at each other, then at their new neighbours.

“What’s a casserole?” Irene scratched her head. Amber and Luna gaped at her.

“What is a casserole?” Joy repeated, equally confused. “I’ve seen them and heard about them, I just don’t know what it actually is.”

“It’s just chunks of food, thrown in a pot and baked.” Amber said.

“...Thanks.”

The new neighbours smiled back. “Please return the dish back to our apartment once you’re done. Have a nice day!”

Yeri waited until Amber and Luna disappeared around the hall to close the door. In the kitchen, Joy was already unwrapping the dish of something...and scooping out portions onto a plate.

“Is that a cashew?” Irene stabbed a curved nut with her fork. Joy stuck her nose into a slice and sniffed.

“Smells like tuna to me.”

“Tuna cashew casserole.” Yeri remarked.

“You go first. You’re the adventurous eater.”

Without hesitation, Yeri quickly picked up a fork and jabbed it into the casserole, pulling out a congealed lump of beige colored mixture and shoved it into her mouth.

She slowly chewed as Irene and Joy studied each of her facial expressions.

“This is,” she said slowly, “DELICIOUS!” The youngest grabbed her spoon and snarfed down her plate’s remaining contents at a near-choking hazard speed. Joy and Irene followed, wolfing down their allocated amounts and nodding their heads in approval.

“I don’t know what drugs are in this,” Joy uttered, “but it’s good.”

“Surprisingly.” Irene felt like she didn’t want to enjoy this abomination.

_10/10 would eat it again._

The casserole disappeared in no time, and Irene and Joy were left sprawled over the kitchen table, holding their full stomachs as they waved Yeri off to return the tableware.

“I can’t get up.” Joy groaned. “Go answer the door.”

“Dibs out. I’m stuffed.” Irene held up two fingers in surrender as Yeri busted through the front entrance anyways, holding the same glassware.

“I thought you were supposed to return that.” Joy said, slinking down the back of the chair.

Yeri set the glass into the microwave.

“They have more.”

The girls ate it for breakfast the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I wrote this. 
> 
> The next chapter should be up later today. 
> 
> Also Irene looks EXACTLY like Suho.
> 
> https://img.kpopmap.com/2017/05/SM_Top-beauties_SUHO_IRENE.jpg


	5. Cucumber Melon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungri is a creep and Sunlight needs to make better dish soap.

 The cafe was out of dish soap.

 “Just go into the kitchen supply closet and get more,” Irene instructed. Her hands were in the sink, elbows up in bubbles, scraping burnt batter off the side of a pie tin.

 Minseok obeyed, and got down on his knees, digging through the box of dish soap.

 “No, not that one!” Irene shook her head. “The lemon scent.”

 The boy held up the bottles and compared them. “The lemon scent? There’s only cucumber melon.” He drizzled the teal liquid into the sink, and joined Irene in scrubbing pans.

 “The smell….it’s making me sick.”

 Minseok placed the platter into the dishwasher and shook his head. “Smells fine to me.” 

 Irene buried her nose in the crook of her elbow and continued with the task. “It’s like getting a good whiff of rotten kitchen scraps.”

 Minseok chuckled. “Where’s Sunny? I need her to show me how to work the oven.”

 “She went to visit her grandparents. Just you and me today, I guess.” She unenthusiastically blew a strand of hair off her face.

 “The same as a regular oven,” Irene said, giving the metal beast a gentle pat. “Just adjust the temperature knobs so you don’t fry the scones, and you’re good to go.”

 Minseok nodded, and slid in the tray of white chocolate-raspberry scones. Meanwhile, Irene stood outside, taking orders. As he waited for the pastries to finish baking, he sat down on a kitchen stool and wiped his hands on his apron.

  _I wonder what Jongdae’s doing…._

 🎂🎂🎂 

 The timer went off, and the boys roared.

 “YESSS!” Jongdae screamed. “HAND IT OVER!” Junmyeon sheepishly passed a ten-dollar bill to his now-red faced friend.

 “I’m sorry I ever doubted your abilities,” he said to Chanyeol and Baekhyun.

 The taller of the two smiled smugly and picked up his boyfriend by the waist. “Practice makes perfect.”

 Junmyeon shook his head. “Although, I have no idea why I watched you two make out for six minutes and thirty seconds.”

 Jongdae fanned himself with his newfound wealth and gave his imaginary long locks a flip. “I’m only ten dollars richer.” Baekhyun smacked Chanyeol and demanded he release him, kicking his legs desperately.

 “YEOLLIE!” he complained loudly. Chanyeol shook his boyfriend around like a rag doll and threw him onto the sofa, crushing Junmyeon.

 “An off-day today?” Jongdae asked. Junmyeon checked his watch and nodded.

 “I can take a break once in a while. And no classes for you?”

 The three boys all shook their heads.

 “Why don’t we go out, then?” Junmyeon suggested. “It’s been forever since we’ve last gone anywhere as a group....”

 Baekhyun rose up and got to his feet, sprinting towards the washroom. “I’ll need the time to get ready,” he loudly declared. Chanyeol nodded, sprawled over the couch.

 “Sounds good to us.”

 “Great. I’ll pick you guys up at 7:30.”

 🎵🎵🎵 

 The jam sandwiches were set on the platter, and Minseok smoothly slid them off the counter.

 “Table 4,” Irene mumbled as she smeared strawberry preserves on a slice of crustless bread. Business at the cafe had just hit rush hour, and the two employees were busier than ever, serving lunch to office workers and school kids. The tables were fully packed, and a long line of customers snaked nearly to the back wall.

 “Hello, what can I get you today?”

 “May I have a carrot muffin and a spinach smoothie?”

 Irene made a slight face at the combination, and opened the cash register to accept the girl’s sweaty change. Minseok came back out with a glass, filled with green juice, and an orange muffin.

 The process repeated, over and over again. Whenever a customer left, another came. Irene took orders swiftly on the notepad and Minseok busied himself in the kitchen and at the tables.

 “They should really hire another employee.”

 As the clock ticked past 12:30, the baristas felt increasingly tired. The ticket bar was halfway covered in coffee orders, and Irene’s hands shook as she slammed each cup down onto the counter.

 “Next!”

 Minseok came to her aid at the front till, expertly brewing the coffee and pouring elegant swirls of cream and sugar into the cups. One by one, the impressed customers began to drop loose coins into the tip jars.

 “You’re even better at this than I am…” Irene remarked.

 “Thanks,” Minseok muttered, suddenly shy. “I’ve been practicing.”

 She carried the now full tip jar to the back and dumped it in the safe haphazardly. Rush hour was beginning to come to an end, and the four-or-so remaining customers stared up at the menu, wondering what to order. Irene busied herself with spraying the oven and wiping down the kitchen, wrinkling her nose at the residual cucumber melon smell. She would have to beat up the person who made the sales pitch.

 The last customer exited the cafe, with the little ring of a bell, and Minseok walked into the kitchen.

 Irene handed him a slip of paper. “Good work. We made $50.35 in the tip jar today.” She patted him on the back and saw him beam at the ground.

 “I think we’ve more than deserved a break,” she added slyly.

 “What are you saying?”

 “I’m saying that we should close up the cafe early, and go out.” Irene winked and Minseok had to take a step back. He had never seen her like this before, mischievous and lively.

 “Just the two of us.”

 “I’m gay.” He had to force this out of his mouth.

 “I know. Which is precisely why I’m going with you.” She looked at the shocked expression on the other barista’s face and added, “It’s 2019, Minseok. Nobody cares.”

 “Let’s go then.”

 Irene smiled. “There’s a new club in the south district that I’ve been wanting to check out. We can close by 7:30. I just need to run some errands first. You okay with that?”

 “Yes.”

 ☕☕☕

 Jongdae was in the middle of applying his eyeliner for the sixth time, when the doorbell rang. He jumped a little, causing the black line to skid up his eyelid and cursed loudly, grabbing another makeup wipe.

 “BAEKHYUN, GET THE DOOR!” His roommate ran to the door and ushered Junmyeon in, who was dressed sharply in a leather jacket. Baekhyun could barely move in his black ripped jeans without pulling them apart at the seams, so he hobbled back to the sofa, where he was doing his usual activity: playing video games.

 After finally having perfected his makeup and hair, Jongdae marched out of the washroom with model swagger and his friends hooted.

 “Looking good,” Junmyeon commented, and Baekhyun screamed “nice piece of ass” at the top of his lungs.

 “Be careful, you have a boyfriend!” the other two hissed. Chanyeol was late to the party, as usual.

 The doorbell rang again, and Junmyeon let Chanyeol in. Baekhyun’s jaw was going to fall onto the floor by the way he gazed at the giant. They ran towards each other to share a quick kiss and Jongdae looked on awkwardly.

 “Well,” Junmyeon said, picking up his car keys, “let’s hustle. What are we waiting for?”

 Apart from Baekhyun, their landlord and good friend was the only one who had bothered to get their driver’s license. Unfortunately, Junmyeon was the total dad of the group, and being the dad meant that his “ride” was a peach tinted SUV that he had nicknamed “Mama”. It was rather unimpressive, but it would have to do. They could barely trust Baekhyun to drive completely sober.

 “Pile in,” Junmyeon commanded. “And be sure to buckle your seatbelts.”

 The car started up, with the three guys squished uncomfortably in the back. Junmyeon carefully reversed and drove out of the parking lot. If anyone noticed the four men dressed in nearly all black, driving a pink van into town, they certainly didn’t care. Jongdae fiddled with his choker, and his white shirt. The van creeped along at a painfully slow pace.

 “You don’t have to drive everywhere like it’s a school zone,” Baekhyun whined.

 “Safety first.” Junmyeon insisted.

 The sun was just beginning to set, in blinding shades of orange, yellow, and red. The van rattled into city centre, and through the south district. The boys jumped in their seats, speed bump after speed bump.

 “We’re here.”

 The van slowed to a stop by the curb, and everyone hustled out, being careful to not ruin their perfect hair, painstakingly sculpted by cans of hairspray and a Youtube tutorial.

 The club was a newly built establishment, decorated with purple and black. Spotlights shone across the exterior and a red carpet lined the sidewalk, complete with gold chains and loud music blasting from the inside.

 The bouncer stood by the entrance, holding a clipboard and glaring from under his dark black shades.

 “Names?”

 “Junmyeon, Chanyeol, Baekhyun, and Jongdae.”

 He lifted the velour rope and let them pass.

 “Out early, eh? Lightweights.” There was snark in his voice and Junmyeon looked less than happy to be there.

 “No need to be rude, Minho.”

 Chanyeol, Baekhyun and Jongdae trailed Junmyeon as he walked into the club. It was dark inside, and music pulsed in every corner.

 Subconsciously, they took seats at the bar.

 The bartender(a woman, whose name tag read Seohyun) approached them.

 “What will you be having tonight?”

🍸🍸🍸 

 The supermarket carried a whole aisle of dish soap, but somehow, Minseok still found himself in a corner, scratching his head as Irene paced up and down the aisle, holding a basket. They had dumped nearly every scent into the plastic crate, but Irene was still unsatisfied.

 “Fiji blossoms.”

 The scarlet red bottle joined “lemony fresh”, “sea salt springs”, “lush lavender”, “green apple”, and “clementine dream”.

 Truth be told, Minseok didn’t know what sea salt smelled like. He put it in anyways.

 “There.” Irene started towards the checkout counter and dumped the bottles onto a conveyor belt. Minseok followed as she paid, and together, they exited the store six bottles of dish soap richer.

 They walked to her car(a plain silver Honda Civic)and unloaded the cardboard box.

 “See,” Irene said, once Minseok was in the passenger seat, “much better. Now we won’t have to get gassed by that awful soap.”

 They had both gotten ready for a night out; Irene wore a zip up black dress with a white stripe down each sleeve and ankle boots, sophisticated as always. Minseok had put on his darkest blazer with neck adornments and spent half and hour in front of the mirror touching up his face. He had slicked back his poofy blonde hair for the occasion, and now looked like a shady millionaire.

 Minseok knew he had done a good job when he stepped out of the door and Irene told him he was jealous of his makeup skills.

 “Congratulations. You’ve gotten one of my rare compliments.” she deadpanned.

 When the car finally rolled up to the club, the night was a deep royal blue dotted with stars. The bouncer took one look at them and let them in.

 “Thanks, Yuri.” The two women shared a mutual nod.

 Once inside the club, the music nearly drowned out everything, and Minseok had to raise his voice to get past the deafening shouts and electronic beat.

 “WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO NOW?” he shouted.

 “WE’RE SUPPOSED TO ENJOY OURSELVES! GO DO WHATEVER YOU WANT!” Irene screamed back from the dance floor. She was midway through “Roller Coaster.” As much as he wanted to join in, he found himself gravitating towards the bar instead.

 The bartender was busy chatting with a group of boys, so Minseok sat down instead and contemplated.

_I really shouldn’t be out here tonight. I should be in the cafe, working. Maybe if I go home early I’ll have some time to spare to work on my university projects._

 Seohyun approached him, polishing a glass. “What will you be having today?”

 “Gin and Tonic, please.”

 The seat next to him suddenly jerked out, and he found himself face to face with the florist for the day before. His jaw nearly dropped out. His look had done a complete 180 degree turn.

 From innocent flower boy to a hot-as-hell playboy, Minseok took in his every detail, from his perfectly half tucked white shirt that exposed half his collarbone, his choker bobbing up and down in sync with his Adam’s apple, and his tousled hair, falling on his handsome features.

 “You again?”

 “Surprise??”

 Jongdae leaned in closer and swished his glass in his right hand. “I’m glad you’re here! You look amazing tonight, Minseok.”

 Minseok was suddenly thankful for the lack of lights by the bar. Nobody could see his face turn red back here.

 “Thank you. You look stunning as well.” Jongdae smiled sheepishly at the compliment and Seohyun returned with the drink.

 “What are you doing here?” he asked. Minseok sipped at his glass before setting it down

 . “Irene closed up the cafe early.”

 “Wanna come dance with me, then?” Jongdae’s eyes twinkled and Minseok let himself be pulled to the floor, shining in neon and black lights. His legs carried him to the center of the floor, under a pulsing gold spotlight.

 “Gashina” blasted from the stereo, and he let himself get carried away by the music, his body executing each move sharply and perfectly.

 Jongdae stood to the side, too busy staring to actually dance.

 The killing part dragged into the second verse, and Minseok put his hands down. Jongdae ran towards him, obviously impressed.

 “That was phenomenal! The way you dance…” Jongdae caught himself.

_Dive off a cliff, Jongdae. You’re thirsting over a probably straight man._

 “Thank you! I’ve….been practicing.”

 The next song, “Troublemaker” started playing, and before Jongdae knew what he was doing, he grabbed Minseok’s wrist and pulled him to the center.

 “Ready?” Minseok whispered. “I’ll be Hyuna.”

 Nervously, Jongdae spun around to the tune of the music, hovering his hand two centimeters from Minseok’s body. Meanwhile, his partner danced with confidence, oozing seductiveness all over the place as he nailed move after move.

 A crowd was beginning to gather around them now, watching as the dark haired boy and the light haired boy flicked their hands in sync and moved around each other with ease.

 “Let’s sing,” Jongdae whispered into Minseok’s ear, as the blonde’s fingers fluttered above his chest. “Let’s give them a show.”

 Minseok immediately launched into a perfect delivery of Hyuna’s rap, and Jongdae felt his heart swell as he opened his mouth to sing the second verse.

 “Incredible.” Minseok spoke softly to Jongdae, once they were close enough.

 He hadn’t known that the part-time florist, full time college student could sing so well, and his smooth voice glided into his ears. Their hands still refused to touch each other.

_What if he feels awkward?_ they both thought.

 As Jongdae belted out the bridge, Minseok stepped behind him nervously.

  _Here I go…_

 The barista placed two hands on his dance partner’s chest and slid them down.

_WHAT HAVE I DONE? I WASN’T SUPPOSED TO TOUCH HIM, WAS I?_ His brain pounded and Minseok felt suffocated by his awkwardness until he felt two hands on top of his own, sliding them down to Jongdae’s waist. As he grabbed Jongdae’s hand for the next move, the dark haired boy winked at him and gave a shy smile. Together, they sang the high note, and the small crowd clapped and cheered.

 As the song wrapped up, they each took small bows, before Jongdae grabbed Minseok’s wrist and sat him down at the bar.

 They were both slightly panting, faces flushed as they downed the last of their drinks. Jongdae thought his face was going to be pulled apart if he smiled any harder.

 "Jongdae, your voice is breathtaking. Tonight….you were breathtaking.” The barista looked directly at him.

 Minseok wanted to coo when Jongdae buried his face into his hands, obviously flustered by the compliment.

 It must of been the glass of alcohol, because otherwise, the two boys were too shy around each other to drop even the slightest of hints.

 “That means so much to me. Thank you,” he murmured softly. “I want to tell you that you were a triple threat back there. You can sing, dance, and rap. Not to mention, you look sexy as hell when you’re doing it.” Jongdae wiggled his eyebrows at the last comment, and it was Minseok’s turn to hide his blush.

_Be careful, he’s definitely het. He wears hoodies and cargo shorts._

 The two sat there under the bar, grinning like fools at each other until Seohyun came over to tap Jongdae on the shoulder.

 “Your friends,” she pointed to a shirtless Baekhyun that had climbed on top of Chanyeol(who was wearing someone’s sweatpants on his head?)and a flustered looking Junmyeon, “need to go.” Jongdae quickly apologized to the disapproving bartender and Junmyeon paid the bill.

 “I’m sorry, but I have to leave now.” Jongdae looked apologetically at Minseok. “Baekhyun and Chanyeol are dangerous forces, especially when both of them are drunk as lords. Junmyeon’s going to kill me if I don’t get them home.”

 “Nothing to apologize for. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 Jongdae gave Minseok one last smile as he and Junmyeon dragged Chanyeol and Baekhyun out the door with great difficulty.

 Minseok’s train of thought was interrupted by the sounds of squeaking glass. Seohyun placed his empty glass in the trolley behind her and gave the stem a quick polish. “You ate the lemon,” she said, amused.

 “Lemons are good! Just ask Irene.”

 As if out of nowhere, the girl suddenly appeared, looking sweaty and exhausted.

 “I’m ready to call it a night. Are you?”

 Irene leaned across the bar. “A glass of water, please. I’m dying over here.”

 Seohyun returned with a cup piled high with ice and Irene downed it greedily.

 “I know we’ve only been here for twenty minutes, but I feel like going home. There’s someone over there that’s been harassing me, nonstop.” Irene lowered her voice. A man, dressed in a dark gray suit with greasy hair stumbled around, and Minseok’s stomach sank.

 The two headed towards the exit quickly, which was congested by masses of millennial clubbers. Minseok weaved through a group of drunken girls and came out the other side.

 “Irene!” he called out. He searched around for the girl, turning to see if he could spot her space buns and hoop earrings.

 “Irene?” Minseok cut through the crowd and found the stranger in the gray suit, clutching onto the girl’s arm with an iron grip and a lecherous look on his face.

 “LET GO OF ME!” she shouted. Her other free hand grabbed onto the stranger’s ear, twisting it until the man cried out.

 “YOU BITCH!” he spat loudly. Irene struggled to get away, squirming and kicking her leg wildly. Her sleeve had rolled halfway up, and two red streaks trailed down the white skin of her forearm.

 “LET GO!”

 The man leaned onto her, pressing his body close to her side. “What’s wrong, baby? Can’t take a compliment? We can go back tonight, and I’ll make you feel good, real good-”

 “YOU KEEP YOUR DISGUSTING HANDS OFF ME, SEUNGRI, AND ANY WOMAN HERE!” Irene closed her hand into a fist and punched Seungri square into the jaw. He stumbled back, clutching his face as red nails met his unshaven chin.

 “I’ll get what I want, no matter what you say. I’m very well equipped. Just ask the other girls I’ve-”

 Minseok rushed forward, seething with rage, and tackled the man onto the ground, falling into a heap as they were both knocked over by the force of the blow.

 The stranger wiggled out from under him.

 He brought back his hand and reached for Minseok’s throat, snarling in fury.

 “SON OF A BITCH…”

 Within seconds, the bouncers rushed to the his side, Minho helping Irene and Minseok, while Yuri kicked the salacious predator sharply in between the legs. He roared in pain, and doubled over on the ground.

 “I’m calling the cops,” Yuri nodded to Minho.

 “Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?” Irene glared murderously at the man.

 “We’ll take care of it from here,” Minho added. “I apologize on behalf of the establishment. You’ll never see that scum again.”

 He escorted the two dazed patrons out the front door before they had time to protest.

 Outside, Irene sighed deeply, and Minseok inspected himself for signs of bruising.

 “I hate men.” Irene spat bluntly. The police sirens whirred in the distance.

 They climbed into the car in silence, and Irene drove Minseok home, stopping outside of his apartment building.

 “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

 “I’m sorry you had to see that. Seungri’s…..a douchebag.” Irene swallowed hard.

 “Thank you for your help back there.” she finally remarked, as Minseok left the car.

 The sky had now turned a deep black, broken by the cool glow of street lights.

 “You see why I don’t go usually go to places by myself?”

 Minseok’s face drew into a hard line as he thought about the creep who had assaulted both of them.

  _He can rot in jail with the rest of his kind, for all I care._

 “We went out together, we work together. You’re a good person…... I suppose we’re friends now,” Irene laughed.

 Minseok smiled warmly at her. “I suppose we are.”

 As Minseok stumbled into his room, tiredly, and got ready for bed, he couldn’t stop thinking about Jongdae. The way he sang, how good he looked, and what he had said to him that evening.

_You look sexy as hell when you’re doing it…_

 The words played on a constant loop in his head, even as he tried to lay down and ignore it.

  _Why are you thinking about him? You barely know him at all. What do you think this is? A cringey love story where you fall for each other? He’s probably straight. He probably never thinks about you. So, what’s wrong? What’s so special about Jongdae?_

_Today you nearly got attacked by a sexual predator, but all you’re thinking about is him._

_All you really do think about is him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOPS IT WAS NOT UP LATER THAT NIGHT.
> 
> Anyways, Troublemaker will forever be iconic. Thanks for reading!


	6. SUHRANGHEY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vivi returns, cinnamon buns are delicious, and remember to change your bandaids!

 “I want to move out.” Baekhyun turned to look at Jongdae as he sat down on the couch, a bowl of sugary cereal in his lap.

 “You what now?” his roommate asked, shoveling Frosted Flakes down his throat.

 “MOVE OUT.” Baekhyun switched off his video games for the first time in years, and rested his head on Jongdae’s shoulders. The other practically inhaled the remaining cereal, and ditched the bowl into the sink.

 It was so early in the morning, the sky was still lined with stripes of orange pink.

 “I’ll wash it later,” Jongdae mumbled. “Now about you moving out…”

 “I’m serious.”

 Baekhyun was never serious.

 “I’m never going to find another roommate, Baek!” Jongdae leaped face-forward onto the sofa, and groaned. “I’m a poor university student! Who’s going to help me pay the rent?”

 “Just go on the Internet and find someone else. It’s not HARD.”

 “You’ll be missing out on the bagels…”

 “Chanyeol will buy me all the bagels I want.” The crumbs dropped from Baekhyun’s mouth and onto his friend's shirt.

 “I guess it’s about time anyways....” Jongdae admitted, dusting off the pieces of half-chewed Lucky Charms. “You deserve to move in with him. And look on the bright side. I won’t be waking up at two in the morning to the sounds of-”

 Baekhyun’s smile grew sleazy. “Just think of all the fun we’ve been having when you’re not around…”

 Jongdae picked up a pillow and whacked his not-roomate-anymore in the face.

 “Screw you.”

 “Thanks, but no thanks. My boyfriend can do that for me.” “STOP IT WITH THE JOKES!” The raven-haired boy clamped his hands over his ears.

 His not-roomate simply stuck out his tongue and slurped his cereal milk noisily.

 “One more thing,” Baekhyun mentioned, teeth stained with marshmallow sludge. “I’m taking the console with me. I want to teach Chanyeol to play.”

 “No problem,” Jongdae shrugged, “...we all know the game that you play the most on there is Cooking Mama.”

 He rushed out the door with his backpack before Baekhyun could get a chance to kill him.

 🍩🍩🍩

 “Is that Jongdae?” Irene stepped onto the stool and spread open the blinds to get a better look outside.

 “Is it? What’s he doing up so early?” Sunny placed her mop on the ground and dusted off her hands. “It’s like 5:30.”

 “I agree. It’s probably not him, the lazy ass he is.”

 “Get down. I need to get a better look.”

 At 5’2, Irene and Sunny were both all bite, no bark. Minseok wasn’t even that tall either, for a guy.

 “It’s some dude dressed in all black with a hoodie, jeans, and a backpack.”

 “I’m surprised. Why don’t you invite him in so we can all have breakfast together? He must be freezing out there…” Sunny said, taking the cleaning supplies to the back.

 Irene sighed and flicked the switch, turning on the neon glow of the open sign. “Jongdae!” she called through the open window. “Get in here!”

 The weary looking figure turned slowly, and dragged himself towards the cafe, looking like a dark lump against the colorful backdrop of the street; decorated with rainbows of leaves clinging onto the trees that were planted on the side of the walkway. The bell rung softly, and Minseok looked up from the coffee machine.

 “Hungover?” he and Irene asked at the same time.

 “No,” the boy replied, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “I’m just exhausted.”

 Minseok was exhausted too, but totally not because he had stayed up all night thinking about the boy in front of him.

 Totally.

 “Nothing a cup of coffee can’t fix!” Sunny advised, placing a steaming mug in front of him. “Today’s special is a coconut caramel latte. Served with extra cream and sugar on top.”

 The baristas each took a seat around Jongdae at the bartop, and watched as Sunny brought out another tray of steaming cinnamon buns, shining with white glaze. She left the plate next to a server piled high with freshly baked brioches, steaming with flaky, buttery goodness.

 “Bon appetit!”

 The three digged in greedily, not missing a beat. Irene ripped apart chunks of cinnamon bun, her fresh manicure dripping with sugar syrup, while Minseok struggled to shove two things in his mouth at once, looking like he was about to dislocate his jaw when he made a small, strangled choking noise. Jongdae’s mouth dripped with the coffee as he brought one hand up to slurp, and the other to fight Irene for the last bun.

 “No!” she yelled. The florist snatched it from her grasp and she clawed desperately at his sleeve with her sugary nails.

 “Too late,” Jongdae chided teasingly. “Early bird gets the-”

 The rest of his words flew behind him when Minseok bit straight down onto his hand, seizing the coveted pastry with his teeth. He shrieked loudly in pain, pulling his hand away and wringing it out.

 “Sorry,” the barista slobbered, with an apologetic shrug. Irene slapped her knee in the background, cackling.

 “NOT MY HAND! AND MY KNEE TOO!” Jongdae rolled up his pants to reveal a crummy, barely stuck on bandage that was lazily covering a week old wound.

 “Please, change that,” Sunny said, whisking away the plates. “It looks….infected.” She winced and sat back down to join everyone else.

 “It’s almost healed anyways,” the dark haired boy replied, waving off any concern. Irene and Minseok made faces as the watched him pick at the corner of the scabbed over scrape, drawing dots of red blood. “I’m fine,” he repeated to the two disgusted baristas, rolling his jeans back down.

 Sunny shook her head at the whole scene and pulled out her phone, scrolling through her Instagram feed. “Did you see this?”

 She turned the post towards Minseok and Jongdae, who both leaned in with curiosity. “I thought it was you two when I first watched it.”

 The white triangle fizzled away as she pressed play, and let the video run.

 It was a ten second loop that someone had taken at the club they went to yesterday; two boys, one blonde, the other with jet black hair dancing Troublemaker under a golden spotlight. The high note rang from the phone speakers, and Irene’s eyebrows rose up to the roof.

 “Damn!” The girls put their hands together and made a wave of applause for Jongdae and Minseok, both furiously red. They each smiled tentatively as Sunny whooped and hollered in the background while Irene slapped their backs.

 “How did that end up on Instagram?” Jongdae searched through his own phone for the video, and sure enough, there it was.

 “You should be glad,” Irene replied. “This video alone has over thirty-thousand views.”

 Minseok paled as he scrolled down on his own screen.

 “Don’t read the comments,” he squeaked. “They’re thirsty as hell.”

 They all burst out laughing.

 “Such confident gays.” the only male barista read out loud, making careful eye contact.

 Jongdae’s eyes crinkled into a smile and he pursed his lips. “He’s not wrong.”

 The blonde shrugged, grinning from ear to ear.

 “Wife me, daddy.” Irene squinted. “Oh my god,” she said, covering her mouth.

 “NO! We’re NOT reading those here!” Sunny reached across the table and turned off Irene’s phone for her, scrambling to change the subject. “Jongdae! Tell us what you’re doing up so early! You usually don’t get up until two hours later!”

 The florist folded his hands on the table. “I’m heading to the shop early to dye some flowers.”

 “What for?” Minseok looked confused.

 “I have a client that wants blue, and I don’t have those, so I’ll have to work my way around with white flowers and a bit of coloring.”

 "Is that scamming?” Irene said, sarcastically. Minseok stared off into the distance, through the window.

 “A guy’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.” Jongdae shrugged and wiped his hands on a stray napkin, yawning.

 “Speaking of which, I have to go catch the bus now. Thanks for the breakfast.”

 He gave a two-fingered salute to Sunny, who nodded back, and waved goodbye to Irene and Minseok before closing the cafe doors behind him.

 The three baristas didn’t move an inch until they saw the bus drive away.

 🌼🌼🌼

 It took Jongdae more time to wash the bluing out of his hands(so he wouldn’t look like he murdered a smurf)than to actually soak the flowers. But fortunately, the bus driver was charitable and let the sweaty student on anyways.

 Chanyeol saved him a seat at the back(per usual), and he clutched an extra large bottle of Pocari Sweat to his chest, looking unbearably weary.

 “Did you buy that instead of Gatorade?” Jongdae pointed out, scraping at his greenish nails.

 “Stan Twice,” was the only coherent phrase his friend manged to put together before drooping his chin to his chest. “I had like, five drinks yesterday. I’m so hungover….”

 “You’ll pull through.” Jongdae patted Chanyeol sympathetically as the boy took a swig of the translucent liquid.

 The bus lurched over a speed bump and the drink spilled everywhere. Chanyeol regurgitated the rest, and coughed loudly as Jongdae turned his his body away from the mess.

 “It looks like I’ve peed my pants!” he whined loudly, causing the other bus passengers to turn and stare.

 “Stan Twice….stan talent....” Chanyeol rasped weakly, holding the bus seats for support as he stumbled off and onto campus. The florist followed, dusting off the wet patch on the crotch of his pants.

 They walked through the Faculty of Sciences, looking like a weird sideshow, especially for the giant boy who was bent halfway over, lapping at a liter bottle, and the shorter one with the weird turquoise hands and the piss soaked jeans.

 “Wait,” Jongdae suddenly hissed, holding up a finger. “See that?” “I think that’s her.”

 The pink-haired girl from last week was pacing around the potted plants in the foyer nervously, muttering something in Cantonese to herself.

 Chanyeol and Jongdae crouched behind a prop-up poster board and watched her intensely.

 “We look really creepy out of context,” Chanyeol commented, through gulps.

 “It’s okay. She was creepy **first**.”

 “What are you two doing?” A hand grabbed the poster board out of the way, and the sophomores were approached by a skeptical looking senior.

 “If this is what it looks like…”

 The two “stalkers” jumped and turned to face Key, carrying a stack of textbooks.

 “Please….keep your perversions off this campus.”

 Chanyeol got to his feet and dusted off his pants.

 “She’s the one who attacked me last week!”

 Key look extremely doubtful as Jongdae stepped in and started ranting at the top of his lungs.

 “THIS PUNK ASS GIRL WITH THE WASHED UP COTTON CANDY HAIR TRIED TO ASSAULT MY FRIEND SIR!”

 Chanyeol dragged his friend by the backpack away from Key and began profusely apologizing.

 “I’m so sorry. My friend here is um...he has some….um….”

 Jongdae pushed Chanyeol to the side and took a deep breath. “PLEASE ARREST THIS LADY WHO TRIED TO HIT ON HIM WITHOUT HIS CONSENT!”

 Vivi looked up from her pacing and started walking towards a very panicked Chanyeol and a very riled-up Jongdae.

 Key looked like he wanted to “abort mission”.

 “Oppa, is that you?” Her pink braid flapped on her shoulder and her face stretched into a thin smile.

 “Kill me now.”

 “LOOK! THERE’S YOUR CHANCE! SHE’S ABOUT TO DO IT AGAIN!”

 Either Vivi was deaf, ignorant, or forgot that she was trying to get a guy with a boyfriend because she approached Chanyeol with the same vigor as a week before, skipping and twirling in her beige sundress.

 “I missed you!”

 Key slinked back slowly from the whole situation until he had placed a good distance between him and a chaotic Jongdae.

 What made the whole thing worse was that Chanyeol just had to go dye his hair on Friday. It was a light shade of cotton candy pink...that looked exactly like Vivi’s.

 “We’re matching!” She twirled another time and Jongdae had a sudden flashback to the horrors of last week. Chanyeol backed up, shoving Key in front of him in a futile attempt to hide himself.

 “Hey, wait, what?”

 The textbooks dropped to the ground.

 “I know it’s you! I’ve even been learning Korean for you!”

_This can’t be good._

 “Listen! Sa-RANG-HEY!” The syllables were painfully dragged out, one by one. Chanyeol and Jongdae scrunched up their faces in cringe.

 Before anymore could happen, Key threw his textbooks into his arms and barreled down the hallway, leaving the pink haired giant unprotected from his adoring harasser.

 “You can always teach me more Korean, Oppa!” The tense moment was interrupted by the buzz of a phone, and Vivi plucked it from her purse. Jongdae and Chanyeol watched as she began to spit out rapid-fire Cantonese.

 “I’ll see you next week, Oppa!” she whispered.

 The two boys made their hasty escape down the Faculty of Biological Sciences. “I swear to god...” Jongdae gritted his teeth. Chanyeol made a hissing sound between his lips, telling him to drop the subject.

 “Fine. But I’m going to beat her up if I ever see him again!”

 🌸🌸🌸

 Surprisingly, Yeri used the crosswalk this time. It was windy weather outside of the apartment, and Jongdae muffled his face into his scarf as Yeri tucked her arm into his elbow.

 “Did you meet the new neighbours?”

 “Amber and Luna?” She nodded. “I had the casserole for lunch today.”

 “You enjoy eating that?”

 “IT’S SOOO GOOD.”

 “I gave the rest of mine to Baekhyun. He eats it like a starving man.” Yeri held open the door for Jongdae and they slid in discreetly.

 “Let’s take the stairs up this time,” Yeri said. “There’s something I want to show you.”

 She didn’t even wait for a response, before she used a surprising amount of strength to pull Jongdae up the stairs like a limp doll. They stopped in the foyer of the second floor and the boy let out a sarcastic monologue as he adjusted his messed-up backpack straps.

 “You know, you could have just asked me TO WALK UP THE STAIRS and I would have gladly done so myself. There was no need to-”

 Yeri was already making her way across the hallway, looking ridiculous as she clasped her bag to her hip to avoid making noises and padding softly towards the twin doors; one pink, one red. After she positioned herself under an overwatered yellow fern, Jongdae followed her anyways.

 Wasn't like he was rushing to get back home to get cracking on his work. 

 “Now listen…” She cupped her ear and scooped the hair from her face. The raspy noises that came from the other side of the door was nothing like anything Jongdae had ever heard before.

 “It’s a dog,” Yeri motioned to the red door.

 “She got a dog!” “Isn’t there a no pets policy?”

 His nose twitched, and he reached up to scratch it.

 “Be careful,” Yeri warned him.

 Jongdae took a deep breath and closed his mouth. The sneeze came anyways, and it blew open his lips, creating a fart sound that Yeri snickered at. The snicker turned into a full blown laugh as she doubled over onto the ground, laughing at the strings of snot that hung from Jongdae’s nose like bungee cords.

 “Here you go.” Yeri handed him a tissue from her bag, and continued laughing as Jongdae tried to pitch the wad into a trash can, but missed by ten meters.

 The door swung open before either of them had a chance to move.

 She didn’t look like a grandma, much less like a woman. Her head was piled high with stereotypical pink rollers that she wore for pure aesthetic(if you could even call it that)and between the many layers of wrinkles on her face was a greasy sheen that shone grotesquely in the apartment lights.

 Mrs. Yeh looked disgustedly at the two students, her thin lips crossing into a deep frown. The pink silk robe that she tied around her waist was caked in grains of rice from her last meal, and her rattling cough carried the scent of tobacco and garbage towards Jongdae and Yeri, who discreetly breathed from her mouth.

 “Little punks.”

 Her sagging face, dotted with liver spots, bounced as she spoke. The cigarette in her left hand got stubbed out into the doorframe, and they all pretended to not notice the many round, brown marks in the pink paint.

 “I’m sorry ma’am,” Jongdae began, but was cut off by a vicious sneer. Yeri poked him lightly in the side and directed his attention to the dog behind her.

 The most evil of all dogs, a French bullhuahua, lurked behind Mrs. Yeh’s shriveled legs, sniffing at her nasty robe.

_It looks like a demon that needs to go to a dentist._

 As if the dog with red eyes and blackened teeth were the cutest little puppy, Mrs. Yeh scooped the hairless canine into her arms.

 “NOW GET THE ELL’ OF MAH GODDAMN PROPERTY AND DON’T COME BACK FOR THE LORD’S SAKE! FUCKIN’ YOUNGSTERS! YOU NEED TO BEHAVE YOURSELVES!”

 Yeri and Jongdae didn’t need to be told twice.

 🐶🐶🐶

 “You know that thing where all dogs are supposed to look like their owners?” Yeri asked. The two had taken the elevator up to the third floor, but they still checked around for signs of the hideous woman and her equally repulsive dog.

 Who knows? Maybe she had been a secret sniper during WW1 and was out to hunt them down.

 “I think Mrs. Yeh just proved that.” she finished. Jongdae snorted, and Yeri opened the apartment door, bidding him a quick goodbye.

 The bandaid on his knee chafed against his jeans as he hopped downstairs.

 The quiet atmosphere of the apartment stairs was interrupted by a loud bark that rang in his ears. He unlocked his door(cerulean blue, because Junmyeon insisted that the doors all be painted different colors).

 “BARK!”

 Baekhyun rolled over from the other side of the couch, tearing off his headphones.

 “BARK!”

 “I’m going to finish up my assignments today.”

 “BARK!”

 His roommate nodded and turned his attention back to the TV screen, busying himself with chopping virtual carrots, and skinning a fish.

 “BARK!"

 “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT NOISE!” Jongdae yelled, exasperated.

 “BARK!”

 “STOP INTERRUPTING COOKING MAMA!” Baekhyun screamed at nobody in particular.

 “BARK!” Jongdae thought he was going to lose it if the crusty-ass rat dog made another noise. There was no way that he would get anything done like this.

 He clenched his key lanyard tightly as he made his way out the door and across the hallway. There was a faint banging noise from the pink doors, and some scrambled whispers, before the sound of a door tightly slamming shut. He raised his arm to knock, but the door swung open before he got a chance.

 “WHAT DID I TELL YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” Mrs. Yeh threw the cigarette from her lips and stomped it onto the ground by Jongdae’s shoes, causing him to flinch.

 “Ma’am, please. Your dog is being disruptive to my roommate and I.” He managed to quell the bad taste in his mouth, and used the politest voice he could.

 “MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!” was the reply he got in return, before a bubblegum door was flung into his face.

 Jongdae retreated, defeated and thoroughly pissed. He contemplated about all the university assignments he had to do, and his mood slowly dropped.

_A research essay. An experiment write-up. A case study. A project report. Whatever. Can’t be late if I do them tomorrow._

_But you promised yourself to do them today!_

_Doesn’t make a difference._

 A wonder that he hadn’t joined the ranks of many dropouts. As he stormed back into his room, he made a beeline for the mattress, shoving a pillow angrily into his face to block out the unwanted sounds of cheese grating and dog barking.

 “BARK!”

 “Good god…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my awful writing(dies inside)....
> 
> ALSO BE SURE TO WATCH BEAUTIFUL GOODBYE(oof the feels...)! I'm not sure what else to put here, so here are my biases for all the groups I've mentioned throughout this fic(hehe nobody cares).
> 
> RV - Wendy(Bias Wrecker - Yeri)  
> EXO - Chen & Xiumin  
> SNSD - Sunny(Bias Wrecker - Hyoyeon)  
> Shinee - Minho(Bias Wrecker - Key)  
> f(x) - Luna(Bias Wrecker - Amber)  
> LOONA - Chuu
> 
> Other groups I like...
> 
> Seventeen - Joshua  
> TWICE - Jeongyeon(Bias Wrecker - Nayeon)  
> Mamamoo - Wheein  
> Pentagon - Jinho


	7. Hello Beaches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty boring, but candles, crumpets, and crappy neighbors whose dogs won't shut up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that not many people care, but I'm going to try and speed up the updates. At this current condition, it's literally going to take two years to finish. RIP.
> 
> :)
> 
> Have a great day!

 The retail worker looked out-of-the-world bored at Junmyeon.

 “Sir, do you need any help with that?” The unamused employee pointed at a giant shopping cart, packed to the top with candles, which Junmyeon was pathetically pushing down a narrow aisle stocked with bath products.

 “No, I’m good,” came the grunted reply. The glass jars in the cart clinked together, clattering as the landlord guided his items towards the checkout.

 “SIR. Are you sure you don’t need help with that?” The frowning cashier, a grumpy student who went by the name of Kyungsoo, folded his arms and glared strongly into the distance.

 “Okay!” Junmyeon huffed as his cart was plucked away form his reach, and guided expertly to the next waiting cashier, a girl that looked much less angry, albeit annoyed.

 “How many candles are you even buying?” Victoria asked, swiping the 4th jar of yellow wax across the scanner.

 “It’s my fall cleaning time.” That’s right. He was a real adult now.

 Wasn’t there this one time that Joy had believed in spirit animals? Seulgi’s was a bear. Minseok’s was a cat. Wendy’s was a squirrel.

 Junmyeon’s was a postmenopausal woman. You know, the kind that bakes cookies, crochets, and dabbles in interior design.

 Victoria handed him a receipt, snapping him out of a trance.

 “That’ll be $234.98.”

 There were at least two of the store’s biggest plastic bags, stretched thin with the amount of artisan candle jars thrown carelessly in. He handed in his debit card on instinct, and immediately wondered how light his wallet would be if it was cash.

 “Come again,” Kyungsoo said half-heartedly, once Junmyeon had a foot out the door.

 Clearly, he did not want him to come again.

🕯🕯🕯

 Junmyeon was already running behind schedule. His office was supposed to be open at least ten minutes ago, for the weekly open office session he always hosted on Sundays. Not to mention his hands were killing him from all the lugging. _Maybe that was partially his fault,_  he thought, since he would rather break his arms than make two trips.

 The office door wasn’t big, but it was difficult to miss, especially since it was a bright yellow, and slightly crooked too. Inside, there was a wooden desk, shoved into the corner behind a curtain of golden beads. A fabric sofa sat in the corner, adorned by a single pillow in the shape of a smiling sun.

 Smiling, he kicked open the door and threw the bags onto the floor, not caring where they landed. Moving swiftly, he lit a candle to overpower the musty fumes of wet paperwork, and slapped it on the windowsill.

_Great._

 Junmyeon stood back, hands on hips, and admired himself in the reflective glare of the window. His brown hair, which had been unfortunately fried, was swept back with a red and black headband. Nobody could deny that he looked handsome today.

 Sundays were always his favourite. He really did enjoy doing his job, even if it meant he had to take his Paramedicine university courses at night, since he was too busy in the day. This year was his junior year, and he was itching to call himself paramedic to everyone he knew, instead of boring man who leases sub-par homes in the okay part of the city.

 For the second time that day, his thinking was interrupted by the door creaking open.

 “Smells good in here.” Luna trailed in, a pitcher of blue liquid hugged tightly to her chest as she sniffed and stepped inside without invitation.

 “It’s my new candle. Hello Beaches.”

 “Nice. Where’d you get it?” The drink that looked suspiciously like tide pod water sloshed against the container.

 “Forever 2NE1.”

 Luna pulled a saucer and cup out of seemingly thin air, setting it down on a pile of tax returns.

 “I stayed up all night to make this drink. It’s my new recipe. Tell me how it tastes.” She shoved the teacup into Junmeyon’s hands, and he tentatively took it.

 “What is this?” He peered suspiciously at the steaming neon blue water, stirring it gently with a metal teaspoon.

 “My new recipe. Amber suggested KoKoBop as a name. KoKo for coconut water, lemonade, and blue-raspberry Kool-aid.”

 “Boiled together?” Junmyeon took a whiff, that smelled oddly like the fruit candies of his childhood. He slowly brought the spoon towards his mouth, barely wetting his lips with the sip.

 “You promise it’s not poison?”

 “Shut up and tell me how it tastes.”

 Junmyeon swished the drink around his mouth, looking thoughtful as he swallowed.

 “I think I like it.”

🍵🍵🍵

 The second person who dropped by was Seulgi, resident artist and badass of Golden Groves.

 “I can’t sleep, Suho.” she groaned, shutting the door lazily behind her. Seulgi had always preferred nicknames, but Junmyeon had a sneaking suspicion that she was just bad with pronunciations.

 “Okay….? Well, when I can’t sleep, I usually have a big glass of warm milk before I go to bed. Before that, I eat a light dinner and use lavender essential oils-”

 “No. Seriously.”

 “Well,” Junmyeon tapped his chin with a pen thoughtfully, “you could always head down to the pharmacy-”

 “That wrinkly-ass woman with the hair rollers that be looking like ham rolls bought a dog and it’s been barking all night.” Seulgi’s voice was dripping in sass.

 “But there’s a no pet policy!” Junmyeon said, naively.

 “There's also a no smoking indoors policy. But does she follow that?” Seulgi pointed out.

 “Want a crumpet?” Junmyeon slid a little pancake on a paper towel towards Seulgi, who stuffed the whole thing into her mouth and swallowed in one bite.

 Yes, true adults also had teatime. Teatime was for everyone, not just little girls in princess dresses.

 “You should evict her.” she suggested.

 “I can’t do that! She’s been living here forever, since my father was the landlord! I can’t throw old women out onto the street like that! She pays her rent on time and basically leaves us alone.”

 “You said it yourself. She’s a demon.” Seulgi ate another crumpet.

 “They’re better with tea,” Junmyeon muttered.

 “Evict her,” the girl repeated, this time in a stronger voice.

 “No.”

 “Evict her. There’s no reason that you shouldn’t. She’s broken all the tenant rules, she’s rude as hell and a total pain in the ass, she goes around complaining about nothing….” Seulgi rattled off a dozen examples from the top of her head. “I can’t sleep because of that disgusting dog.”

 Junmyeon shook his head, and Seulgi rolled her eyes.

 “No. Now, can I help you with anything else?”

 “Please give me this recipe.” She had started eating her 5th crumpet and thought she might throw up.

 “Water, milk, butter, flour, sugar.”

 “Delish.” She was definitely going to vomit, so she slapped a hand over her mouth and tried not to gag.

 “ECCHHH ACHHH…..”

 “Oh, eew!”

🥞🥞🥞

 After all the chunks had been vacuumed out of the carpet, Junmyeon was finally free to sit down. He still had the paperwork to fill out, since Baekhyun was going to break his lease, and move in with Chanyeol.

 He almost wanted to sigh at the sappiness, but he knew better than to be jealous. They were his closest friends, but it stung how they would have each other, but he wouldn’t.

 Junmyeon couldn’t remember the last time he had gone on a date, or hooked up, or done literally anything frisky with anyone.

  _Old man Suho needs to get out more. But the work won’t do itself._

 The swivel chair creaked as he leaned back into it, stretching his limbs and yawning. The candle had burnt out by now, into a soft puddle of wax that matched the yellow color of the rest of the room.

 The second candle he pulled out of the bag was a sweet-smelling brown jar that was “BonBon Chocolat” scented.

 According to the label, it was supposed to glow forever. An “Everglow” candle.

 It would have to do.

🌰🌰🌰

 “Baekhyun, you were wrong! This isn’t easy at all!”

 “Sure it is!” Baekhyun licked his lips. “Search up roommate for rent or something like that.”

 “That’s…..not how it works!” Jongdae groaned loudly, smacking his head into the table.

 “Sucks to be you, man.”

 “You’re such a dick.”

 “Which is why it sucks.”

 Jongdae rolled his eyes in perfect Irene, and stuck out his tongue. “I’m tired of this. Look at this listing.” He scrolled down the page. “Not moving in with a fifty year old man. Not moving in with a cat lady. Not moving in with a fifteen year old, either.”

 Baekhyun dug a spoon into a tub of ice cream. “I’m going to be drop off my keys. You better get used to me not being around, and some other loser who’s not as good as me.” He stabbed a finger, sticky with chocolate in his chest and smiled dumbly.

 “Go to hell.”

 “I’m just telling the truth.”

 Jongdae slumped down. “I didn’t get any sleep last night either! The dumbass dog was barking like crazy…”

 “I don’t really care, so I’m going to go get the mail.” Baekhyun interjected before Jongdae could protest any further.

 He hurried downstairs, still in his pajamas; a pair of ugly flannel pants and a Girl’s Generation concert t-shirt. There was some shouting as he rounded the corner, but he was Baekhyun, who didn't think much of anything.

 There seemed to be two voices; one was the unmistakable cheese-grater nasal rasp, and the other was Seulgi, who was getting louder each second.

 “You better be told your place, young lady!”

 “Is there a goddamn off button on this dog?”

 “FUCK OFF!” The old woman snarled. Seulgi stepped forward again in defiance, and Baekhyun stared on from the corner, eyes barely peeking out.

 “What’s going on?” Somebody stepped up behind him. It was Joy, clutching a stack of envelopes.

 “Some sort of confrontation.” He bit his lower lip and headed upstairs, too lazy to watch anyways.

✉✉✉

 “Why are there two keys in my dropbox?” Junmyeon clutched the metal in his fist, pushing them around in the palm of his hand.

 “The old hag left.” Seulgi replied.

 “SHE DID?” His eyes bulged. “HOW?”

 “It was easy. I called Irene….and she handled things.”

 “Oh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the obscure references. 
> 
> 1\. Kokobop  
> 2\. Hello Bitches  
> 3\. Bon Bon Chocolat


	8. Mouth Balloon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's sometimes hard to remember when you were born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please go check out Taeyeon's Four Seasons!
> 
> VOCAL LEGEND.

 Was that a balloon sticking out of Baekhyun’s mouth? Or was that a condom? Jongdae didn’t move closer to check.

  _Yikes,_ he thought, as he reached into the fridge to grab a carton of milk. The whole refrigerator was draped in clumps of silver ribbon. He peeled a strand from the bottom of his toast.

 Of course, Baekhyun was passed out cold, sprawled over the couch even in unconscious passing.

 Jongdae spooned the Frosted Flakes into his mouth and examined the rest of the damage that had been done to the kitchen. There was a row of pink balloons hanging pathetically from the curtain rod and a holographic banner that had slid halfway down the wall, taped backwards somehow.

 He shook his head in disapproval and wondered if he should wake his roommate or not. Baekhyun had gone out drinking last night, and reeked of cheap alcohol and sour sweat.

  _Typical._

 He finished his breakfast early, and raced downstairs to EXODUS. Today, the cafe’s blackboard sign had been knocked over and dragged across onto the lawn.

 The side face up read the special: Coffee Glacé. Iced coffee with a fancier name, but nobody needed to know that.

 The three employees were already waiting for him by the door.

 “There’s our Jongdae,” Sunny cried out cheerfully. Irene seized his arm and lead the very confused boy to the display case.

“ You can have anything you want today. It’s on us.”

 “Wait...what? Um...okay. Thanks.”

 Minseok came back from the kitchen, holding a three tiered cake in his arms, and set it down noisily on the counter. He stuck little pink candles into the individual slices, the soft cake dipping under the weight of the wax.

 Sunny struck a match and lit the candles in a single smooth movement. They flickered up and down in blue and orange flame, lapping at the morning air. Jongdae looked around awkwardly, a puzzled expression on his face.

_Why is there a cake? Did Halloween come early or something?_

 In perfect unison, the three baristas clapped their hands joyfully. “How old are you again?” Sunny asked Jongdae.

 “Twenty-one.”

 This was getting weirder by the minute. As Irene motioned for him to blow out the candles, he did so uncomfortably, exhaling deep breaths onto the flames like a hesitant gust of wind.

 “Make a wish,” someone whispered in the background.

  _I wish I could finish my work for once._ A foolish wish, but worth a shot. 

 Today, Jongdae had to go work the afternoon shift at the flower shop, which meant no progress for another day. He sighed internally and directed his attention back to the cake, which was already being cut into sections.

 “It’s red velvet cake.” Irene slid the paper plate towards him and they all ate in silence, except for the occasional clinks of forks and accidental mouth smacking.

 🍰🍰🍰

 When Jongdae came back from his day of work, dinner was already laid out for him on the kitchen table. He walked quickly towards the plate, pleasantly surprised.

 Baekhyun had definitely ordered Skip the Dishes for this one. The last thing he had cooked was a cheese sandwich. In grade 2.

 He sat himself in front of the bowl of pho and began to slurp noisily. There was bit of time left between 6:00 and 7:00. If he really rushed, he could squeeze nap time along with four more hours to do his research essay. He might have to text Baekhyun to steal Chanyeol’s homework on his way back.

 The door creaked open and Baekhyun made his usual un-grand entrance, holding a purple dotted bag in his hand.

 “I got a present for you!” he declared.

 Jongdae turned around in his chair, the same wave of confusion washing over him from this morning.

 Baekhyun swung the bag towards him wildly and it flew through midair, splashing directly into the remaining broth left in the pho bowl. The puddle of soup soaked through Jongdae’s shirt and he wailed loudly.

 “SORRY,” Baekhyun called after him. “I was late, because Chanyeol and I had to work out our rental payments. I found this in the mailbox too.” He sat down beside Jongdae and tossed a stack of envelopes towards him. “Turns out you have more friends than just me.”

 Jongdae wanted to smack the condescending grin off his not-roommate's face. He reached into the purple bag, wrinkling his nose as his fingers brushed against the damp bottom and pulled out three Rilakkuma plushies.

 “OH MY GOD!” he squealed like a girl as Baekhyun plugged his ears with his fingers. “I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THESE FOREVER!” He turned the blue, pink, and yellow bears, all dressed as little sailors over in his hand. “How did you find these?! They’re limited edition!”

 “Anything for my friend,” Baekhyun joked as Jongdae threw both his arms around his neck. He didn’t even mind that the bears now smelled like a Vietnamese restaurant.

 “Thank you so much!”

 “Now open the rest,” Baekhyun urged. “I want to see what your other friends gave you. Obviously, they’re not as good presents as mine, but still.”

 Jongdae tore the blue wrapping paper off a cardboard box. “From Chanyeol,” he read out. A large tub of gummy worms fell out and Jongdae chuckled.

 Junmyeon’s gift was a rather simple glass rose decorative ornament that shone different colors in the light. He had paired it with a simple fountain pen, embossed with Jongdae’s name.

 “It’s beautiful.” Jongdae spun the rose around, watching as shades of blue, violet, green and orange reflected from the petals and splattered colors onto the dining table.

 The silver pendant and chain was from Wendy. The boy strapped it to his wrist and admired the jewelry, while tearing open another envelope. Sunny had taped a $100 gift card to EXODUS on the sheet of blank white paper.

  _“Anything for my favorite customer!”_ He could imagine her winking right now.

 Seulgi bought a metal tin filled with bear-shaped cookies for him, and Jongdae stacked it along with the other food; the gummies from earlier, and a bulk-size Frosted Flakes from Joy.

 There were only two more envelopes left on the table, one pink, one green. Baekhyun shoved together the massive pile of wrapping paper to clear a space for his friend as he opened the gifts.

 “From Irene,” Jongdae read out. “You’re twenty-three now. Time you get your driver’s license….” he rolled his eyes, “I brought you three tickets to TAEYEON’S CONCERT?! THESE COST A FORTUNE!”

 Baekhyun snatched the tickets from his fanboying friend. “Take ME!” he pleaded. “I’ve been waiting forever to get a chance to see my noona Taeyeon perform live! I even pre-ordered like five copies of her album! I’d turn straight just for her…”

 “That’s actually gross. You’re basically a saesang!”

 “MARRY ME, TAEYEON! I'll dump my boyfriend for you!” Baekhyun spontaneously shouted, and Jongdae tore through the pink paper of the last package.

 The card was from Minseok. Jongdae opened it gingerly, making sure not to damage the edges.

**_Jongdae, I brought you a gift even though I didn’t really know what to get you. Even though I haven’t known you for a long time, you’re a great friend and you keep me peeling back the layers like an onion(sorry for the bad metaphor). I hope you enjoy being twenty-one while it lasts!_ **

**_~ Minseok_ **

 Jongdae would never know how many pieces of pink paper were in Minseok’s trash bin;how many nights the barista had stayed up to write the same letter over and over again, smacking his head if he thought the card sounded weird, or pushy, or cheesy. He didn’t know about the long hours that Minseok had stood in the supermarket, picking out the perfect card, with the perfect color scheme and trying to find a decent gift.

 He shook five packets from inside the paper package and gasped.

 “They’re just seeds…” Baekhyun said lacklusterly.

 It was sweet that Minseok had remembered. He thought it was just an unimportant detail in his lackluster life; even if it was just blue flowers.

 _So sweet_ , Jongdae thought, as he clutched the seed packets to his chest.

 Turquoise jade vines, sky blue morning glories, azure himalayan poppies, periwinkle hydrangeas, and indigo sweet peas.

  _He must have spent hours. I can’t even find half this stuff._

 His trance was interrupted by a frantic Baekhyun, who clapped loudly in front of his face.

 “Snap out of it!” he squawked accusingly.

 “Snap out of what?”

 “That lovey-dovey look on your face! Who is this Minseok, anyways…?”

 “A friend!” Jongdae shouted defensively, still holding the seeds protectively.

 “You expect me to believe that?”

 Jongdae was going to be damned if he let Baekhyun tease him to the point of frustration that easily.

 “I’m going to go take out the trash,” he muttered, looking for a reason to excuse himself. Baekhyun snickered behind him and tossed a roll of wadded-up tissue paper at Jongdae’s head.

 “You can take out Minseok with the trash.”

 “ARGHHHHHHH!”

🌱🌱🌱

 “Did you like the pendant?” Wendy asked. She looked up from the dumpster, scraping a pile of fishy smelling compost scraps from a slimy bucket.

 “Yes. It’s so nice!”

 Wendy smiled in return, satisfied, as Jongdae shrugged.

 “I have no idea what everyone is doing. Why are they randomly giving me gifts? This morning, Irene, Minseok and Sunny brought me a cake, and-”

 “You’re serious?” The girl placed her hands on her hips.

 “Really, I am! Why-”

 “You’re a real dumbass.”

 “Huh?”

 “Don’t tell me you forgot your own birthday.”

 There was a long, silent pause.

 “I think I just did….”


	9. Freaky-Frickety-Frack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Yixing!
> 
> I think...?

 “Really? I can’t believe it!”

 “What? You can’t believe you have to suffer?” The voice on the other end of the phone chortled.

 “No! This is great news! I swear!” Minseok cradled his own face in his hands. “It’s been forever since I’ve last seen you!”

 A laugh came from the other side, followed by a tsk-tsk.

 “Well, remember that I’m only coming here for a month or two to finish up the dance production. After that, I’m off with the troupe to do some work in China.”

 “I don’t care! I’m just so glad we have a chance to catch up on things!”

 “Me too, me too. Now, you don’t mind me asking for a favour, right?”

  _Of course._ Minseok narrowed his eyes.

 “You want me to pick you up from the airport?”

 “Yes, that. I know my best friend, who I can always count on in a pinch.”

 “And…”

 “And I didn’t find a place to stay, goddammit! Because the stupid Airbnb I rented cancelled last minute!” There was a loud slapping sound from the other end, and Minseok slightly flinched.

 “You can always come stay with me, Yixing.”

 “Oh no no no no! I could never! I don’t want to trouble you any further.”

 “It’s no problem.”

 “Remember the last time we roomed together?”

 Minseok smiled fondly.

 “When we were on that exchange student trip?”

 “You were such a neat freak.” Yixing grouched. “You insisted on making the beds military style every morning even though we already had maids to do it for us.”

 The blonde huffed defensively. “At least I wasn’t an actual freak. You literally pulled my ass apart when I came out of the shower and asked me if it was refreshing.”

 “You enjoyed it!”

 “Maybe I did….” Minseok licked his lips.

 “Wait, what?”

 “Nevermind. If you really want to rent, I’m sure there’s some spare apartments next to the place I work. The landlord will probably let you stay. My friend says he’s a bit of a pushover.”

 “Is this the Jongdae friend you keep on mentioning?” Yixing laughed evilly at the yelp that came from his panicked friend, who covered the speaker even if nobody was around to hear in the privacy of his own home.

 “The plane is boarding now,” his friend said, once he was done snickering. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

 “I know, and I can’t wait.”

 ✈✈✈

 It wasn’t hard to recognize Yixing from the reaches of the airport terminal. He was definitely the only one wearing a leotard in the post-rain weather, and a huge duffle bag swung right and left across his shoulder like a disastrous pendulum.

 “You dyed your hair!” the dancer called after Minseok, who was already racing past the aisles of seats to give his friend a hug.

 Perhaps he was eager, or maybe he was just struggling to get back to his work before his lunch break ended and Sunny would whoop him.

 “I missed you!” The blonde wrapped his arms and gave Yixing a squeeze. The taller of the two simply patted his friend’s back and leaned in closer.

 “Careful there with the touching. Might cut yourself on the abs of steel right here.” He knocked on his stomach and pulled his shirt back to reveal a series of sculpted muscles.

 “Ugh. Yixing, I swear…”

 “Okay, okay. Just wanted to say that blonde looks hot as hell on you.”

 Minseok’s face was hot with embarrassment as he pulled Yixing away from the crowd and into the elevator.

 “Let’s go, before I really regret this.” His friend simply nodded and pressed the button to the parking level, unleashing a cascade of bad elevator music with it.

 “So,” Minseok said, as the elevator lurched, “I’ll take you to the place I work, and you can just take a walk across the street. I think there’s an office in the building somewhere. After my shift’s over, there’s a really good KBBQ place I have to take you to.” His eyes flicked down to his watch, followed by a muttered curse.

 “Frickety-frack, Sunny’s going to kill me.”

 Yixing simply shrugged and followed Minseok, who had broken into full sprint out the airport doors and through the parking lot, towards a green Volkswagen Beetle.

 “Get in,” the shorter of the two ordered, before clambering in himself and shoving the keys into the ignition. The dancer threw his bags into the trunk, and buckled the seatbelt hastily.

 “Really? Green?” Yixing clucked his tongue disapprovingly once they were on the road, speeding through city centre. “I thought you were better than that.”

 “Wait till you see my friend. She’s got a basic Honda Civic.”

 The dancer made a face and turned his head to appreciate the scenery of the tall skyscrapers and modern edge of downtown as the buildings sped past him. The car turned down the main road and continued swiftly into the newer sections of town, a mixture of chic looking glass houses and millenial-opened business, separated by neat trimmed foliage in metal planters, tall trees that flashed all the fall colors, and cobblestone paths.

 Minseok pulled the car into a tiny parking space in front of an equally elegant and rustic looking coffee shop. They both stepped out, and Yixing hauled his bag down the stone path, brushing past the tired-looking girl that held the door open for him.

 She wore an apron overtop a collared shirt and a sweater vest, her hair pulled back into a glossy, dark ponytail. Behind her stood a woman with champagne pink bangs and a messy bun, that had a variation of the same outfit. Low heels, blouse and a silver skirt, with a half apron tied around her waist.

 “This is your friend, Minseok?” The dark haired girl arched an eyebrow and stared the dancer up and down.

 “Yup,” came the reply. The blonde’s own clothing was strikingly similar. White collared shirt, rolled up at the sleeves, striped apron, dress pants, black shoes.

  _They must work together or something..._

 Around them, the customers slowly began whispering and turning to stare and point at the mysterious new stranger standing in the middle of the room.

 “Is that him?” a teenage girl whispered. “Lay from Dancing With the Stars?”

 “Shut up, Shuhua. I think you’re imagining things.” The girl who sat from across her picked up a fry.

 “You were on Dancing With the Stars?” Sunny asked, impressed.

 “Semi-finalist.”

 “I told you he was, Soyeon!” The first girl hissed. “Can I have your autograph?”

 Irene turned away, with an expression that emulated “clearly done” on her face as the girl swooned when Yixing scrawled his name on the skin of her forearm. Soon, all the fangirls, and some fanboys were lining up to get anything signed by the somewhat famous dancer, who was more than happy.

 Minseok shook his head, but couldn’t hide his grin.

 “I have to get to work now, but I’ll text you once I get off.” His friend nodded, and badly wrote his name on the palm of a squealing fanboy.

 “HYUNG! I’M YOUR BIGGEST FAN!”

🚗🚗🚗

 Junmyeon didn’t expect to see any ripped Chinese men showing up at his door in the afternoon asking to lease an apartment, but here he was.

 “Hello,” the stranger said. The landlord couldn’t help but die inside when one of his cheeks twitched into an awkward smile that revealed a perfect dimple.

 “Come in.” He shoved his paperwork to the side. It could wait.

 The man took a seat, and folded his hands nicely in his lap.

 “Can I get your name?” Junmyeon said, adding a flirtatious twinge to the end, just to test how it sounded.

 “Yixing. I just got back from writing that on at least a hundred people’s arms.”

 “Ahh…” Junmyeon replied, even though he had no idea what the other was talking about. “How can I help you today?” He moved the silver nameplate with his own name on it across the desk.

 “I’m here to rent. Would you be interested in letting out your new apartment suite? I’ll pay whatever.”

 The landlord immediately decided that he would love this mysterious person even more, not only for their looks, charisma, but for their wallet. The money was almost double of what the old woman checked in every month, and he suddenly didn't care about her leaving.

 “Why not?” Junmyeon turned and fetched the purple key from a desk drawer. The room still stunk sickly-sweet of the BonBon Chocolat candle from yesterday. He prayed that Yixing wouldn’t mind.

 “Room 101, first floor.” A thin stack of sheets joined the room key. As the dancer filled out the meager pile of forms, Junmyeon quickly prattled his introduction.

 “The key will match the color of your door. The pool is on the top floor, but don’t go because I haven’t cleaned that in ages. You can use the laundromat on Floor 3, but only from seven in the morning to ten at night.”

 “Thank you.” They made tentative eye contact, neither of them breaking, until Yixing stood up, pushing in the chair, and heading out.

 The landlord was almost sad to see him go, but he swallowed and reminded himself to keep everything strictly professional. There was no point in acting strictly on feelings, he thought, easing another candle from the sack that was now resting in his storage closet.

 The scent of the day was “Ice Cream Cake”, a lace pink tube of wax decorated in golden trim.

🍨🍨🍨

_What’s taking him so long?_

 Minseok checked his watch for the fifth time in thirty minutes. Thirty minutes late for the reservation he had made, and Yixing was still nowhere to be found.

 He fiddled with the sleeve of the red jacket he had changed into, paired with a plain black shirt. It wasn’t like his irritating dancer friend to be late, and if he was going to stand in this apartment lobby, looking tragically out of place any longer….

 Minseok’s mind raced. _What is he doing? Having a snack break? Taking a shower? Doing makeup? Did the landlord hold him up?_

 Another two minutes flew by, bringing the total tally to thirty-two. The barista let out a long sigh and plopped down onto the lobby sofa.

 The text he had sent earlier was left on read, and he wanted to crush his phone into tiny pieces. He would just have to settle for Yixing’s neck later. Their reservation was definitely going to be cancelled.

_Stupid, stupid, wasting my time…._

 “Who’s wasting your time?”

 He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. A tuft of black hair peeked out from the person, obscured by a giant bag of groceries that he was holding.

 “My brainless friend is half an hour late for our reservation. I was supposed to take him out for dinner since we haven’t seen each other for a while…stupid, stupid Yixing.”

 Jongdae smirked. “I think Irene is rubbing off onto you.”

 “Not in the mood.”

 “Totally. You should stop hanging out with her so much.”

 Jongdae kinda enjoyed this, seeing the usually composed and friendly fluffball get all riled up. It was cute, but in a scary kind of way.

 “NO!” Minseok flapped his arms in pent-up anger, and it looked absolutely adorable. “I swear, I’m going to beat him up once I see him. I’m going to pound him into the wall and-”

 “Is this your boyfriend? Cause’ that’s some kinky shit right there.”

 The arms flapped again, and Jongdae held onto his lip with his teeth, trying to hold in a coo.

 “Come with me, Minseok. I don’t think you want to wait for your friend in this lobby.” He rapped his free hand on a framed picture, and the glass splintered into tiny spiderweb cracks.

 “No. You insulted me back to back.”

 “Please?” The younger batted his eyes pleadingly, staring through his long eyelashes.

 “.........Fine. But only if you promise me you’ll never do that again.”

 “Deal.”

⌚⌚⌚

 “Just a heads-up, my apartment is disgusting because I have a roommate too. His name is Baekhyun, and he spends most of his time playing video games or at his boyfriend’s, so it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

 Sure enough, when Jongdae pushed open the front of the door, Baekhyun was nowhere to be found. Instead, the living room was stripped bare except for the tv, and lined with walls of brown boxes that were messily labeled.

 “It looks like an episode of Hoarders,” Minseok remarked, and Jongdae whacked him with the bag of groceries before whining and stamping his foot.

 “I know, I know. He’s moving out too.”

 “Y’all need Marie Kondo or what?”

 The florist simply muttered something under his breath as he pulled a seemingly unending strand of silly string from the refrigerator. The groceries were splayed out on the counter, a mixture of various potato and cheese products.

 “What?” Jongdae asked, once he had caught Minseok staring. “The two food groups that I eat. Dairy and carbs.”

“Kim Jongdae, work your magic and tell me how you’re so skinny right now…”

 His friend threw his head back in laughter and swatted Minseok’s stomach with the back of his hand.

 “You have a goddamn six-pack! What can I possibly tell you!” The barista’s face flushed another color, although this time it was from embarrassment, and not anger. His skin seemed to burn where Jongdae touched it. A little whine escaped from his mouth and he immediately brought his hands to his face, covering it in shame.

 Thankfully, the redness began to die down, since Minseok must have stood there for five straight minutes, watching Jongdae slowly shove cheese strings into the fridge, and putting single unwashed potatoes in separate glass containers. It drove him crazy how there was no method to this madness.

  _What kind of monster eats raw potatoes with unmelted cheese?_

 After he was done with the unpacking, Jongdae handed Minseok a cup of coffee, smiling apologetically.

 "I know it’s not good, but it’s the best I have today.”

 The barista sipped slowly, and returned the smile.

 “It’s okay. It’s the thought that counts, right?”

 They sat around the dining table, both cradling their mugs in silence until one of them finally spoke up.

 “I don’t know you that well,” Jongdae admitted, wringing his hands. “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself so we won’t have to sit here in awkward silence?”

 Minseok raised his eyebrows slightly, and took another gulp of the watery coffee. “What do you want to know?”

  _Everything. What shows you watch, what music you like, your family, your interests, your passions, your friends, your preferences, so I can lock the facts away in my mind forever and keep a piece of you there._

 Jongdae decided that was far too long and creepy to say, so he settled on “Anything.”

 “I’m Minseok. I’m twenty-three years old, and I’m finishing my last year of university. I’m doing a bachelor’s in language interpreting. I can speak English, Korean, and some Chinese. I have a little sister. My friends all tell me I’m a neat freak and that I look like a cat. My favorite color is blue, and I take baths everyday. Erm...my passion is making coffee. I like eating steamed buns too.…”

 “You look like a little baozi." Jongdae was involuntarily batting his eyelashes now, and propping his head up with his elbows on the table, but the barista didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop.

 “Your turn.”

 “I’m Jongdae. I’m twenty-one, in my second year of university...kill me now…...I’m doing botany, but you already knew that, I have an older brother, my favourite color is pink, I’m a big fan of Korean ballad music, I like flowers, and my hobbies are pranking my friends.”

 Minseok nodded slowly, taking his time to digest the new information.

“Now you ask me,” Jongdae said, “and I’ll answer."

 The elder thought for a moment, placing a finger on his chin. So many generic things to ask, to find out more about this boy who didn't know him that well(he even said it himself)but still invited him into his apartment anyways. He didn’t mean to say what he had at the back of his mind, but he did it anyways. It was too early in the night for regrets.

 “What’s your ideal type?”

 “My ideal type?” Jongdae looked puzzled. “I-....”

 “Here, I’ll go first!” Minseok spoke quickly, swallowing the lump in his throat.

  _Why did you ask this? It’s so upfront. You guys are barely friends._

“My ideal type would be a person who is cheerful, affectionate, and can easily light up a room.”

 Jongdae nodded along, and he set down his cup. It sure wasn't coffee, but some blue thing his neighbour had left for him on the doormat, like a peace offering. It wasn't bad at all, though.

 “For me, I don’t know? It would probably be someone who’s older than me, who takes good care of me and treats me well.......Actually, I've had four exes who were all this type, and they're all crazy, awful people. My last girlfriend was in my brother’s year, so I had to see her again when he graduated university. It was great. She pretended not to notice me.”

 Minseok had speculated it, but hearing it out loud was the final blow on the head.

_Jongdae wasn’t flirting the whole time. He was just being friendly. He has girlfriends. He doesn't play for your team. You don't stand a chance._

 Another lump caught in his throat and his stomach sank as if he was on an emotional rollercoaster.

 His phone suddenly buzzed and he pulled it out. It was Yixing.

 The idiot had the audacity to send him a message that Minseok was the one who had ditched him, not the other way around.

 “Asshole,” he grumbled under his breath, typing a message full of satan heads and angry emojis. “I have to go now,” he said, standing up. Jongdae nodded, his facial expression oddly blank.

 “I’ll see you out, then.” He pushed in both of their chairs.

 As Minseok stepped out the door, Jongdae tapped him gently on the shoulder. He turned around, surprised by the unexpected movement.

 “I should have said this earlier, but thank you for the birthday present. I loved it.”

 Minseok forced a smile, unable to ignore the weird feeling in his stomach. “You’re welcome.”

🥔🥔🥔

 “Yixing, you’re going to be so lucky if I don’t kill you right now.” The dancer backed up a step, away from the furious expression that his friend had put on, and down the hallway.

 “You’re fifty minutes late!” Minseok seethed. “We might lose our reservation!”

 “AHH! Well it’s not my fault you suddenly disappeared!” Yixing waved his hands around dramatically.

 “Did you do anything I asked? Did you get-"

 The taller of the two dangled the key on his finger. “I did.”

 He lead the way down the hall towards a wide door, painted a vibrant shade of violet.

 “Right here.”

 Minseok prodded Yixing with his elbow as they stood together, admiring his new apartment. “You’re welcome by the way. Now you’ll get to see me everyday.”

 “Poor me,” the dancer joked, and was met with a slug in the shoulder.

 “Look, if we hurry, we might have a slim chance of making it. So walk faster, please.”

 “Okay,” Yixing replied, and then lowered his voice into a whisper. “I went to talk to the landlord, and damn.”

 “Huh?”

 “He’s a fine man.”

 “Good lord. Did you ask him out? Did you do anything? Together?”

 “No, but I want to take him to the dance recital. Is that a good idea?” Yixing twiddled his thumbs together, which he hadn’t done since grade school, and Minseok knew it was a dire situation.

 “I say go for it.” They walked into the parking lot and got into the car.

 “What if he rejects me, then he hates me? My life is going to be hell if my own landlord wants to feed me to the fiery depths of the underworld.”

 Minseok frowned, turning the steering wheel.

“Nah, you have one month here, right? Make it worth it. And why am I giving you advice? You never listen to me anyways!”

 “True, true.” Yixing stroked his chin thoughtfully as the car rolled over a speedbump and onto the freeway.

 “Remember how I said we have tons of catching up to do? I want to hear all about what my favourite choreographer has been doing without me.”

 “So, I’m working on this dance production that supposed to be a rendition of Swan Lake, but in different styles.”

 “You’re going to make birds do tap dancing?”

 “Essentially, but it’s going to be great. You promise you’re going, right?”

 “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Minseok replied, and he really meant it. The car stopped outside of a quaint looking storefront and they both climbed out.

 The smell of roasted meat and strong alcohol wafted into their noses as they entered the animated atmosphere of the restaurant. Everywhere they looked, there were people laughing excitedly, celebrating and doing shots of soju. A waiter in a dress vest and a bow tie rushed towards them. He looked almost ethereal in the glowly yellow lighting of the dining area.

 “Minseok? MINSEOK! What the hell?”

 “I know, I know, Luhan.” The blonde pointed at Yixing. “It’s all his fault.”

 “You better be fucking glad I saved your table for you. It’s been a whole hour.” Luhan waved them towards their table, situated in the back corner, facing the floor to ceiling windows. He dumped the menu on the table.

 “Yixing, meet Luhan. He’s a close friend of mine.”

 The two exchanged pleasantries as Minseok flipped through the menu, struggling to decide.

 “What do you want?”

 “Just give me whatever. I’m starved.”

 Luhan headed back into the kitchen, as Yixing quickly poured the soju into little glasses. The handsome waiter quickly came back out, balancing plates of pork belly on his arm.

 “You want to grill this yourself?”

 They glanced around at each other, before shaking their heads. The waiter sat down with them, pushing Minseok to the side and began his task of expertly grilling the meat, that sizzled satisfying when he laid it on the grill.

 “You’re good at this,” Yixing said.

 “I’ve been told my meat always feels good in other people’s mouths.”

 “Forgive me,” Minseok groaned as Luhan winked. The dancer’s mouth drooled as the pork was shuffled onto plates.

 “And one more thing,” Luhan mentioned, pulling out a glass dish full of what seemed to be corn, cheese, mayonnaise and sugar.

 “Try it,” he said to Yixing, in careful Mandarin. His jaw dropped as he scooped out the stringy mixture.

 “It’s good,” he fired back in Chinese, slobbering up the gooey golden mixture. Minseok seized the bowl for himself and dug right in with a fork. The scent of caramelized flesh and rendered fat swirled around them. Soon, they were all talking in Chinese loudly, not caring if people stared at the three who were speaking Mandarin in a Korean restaurant.

 The soju sloshed in the little glass as Minseok picked it up. Although the weird feeling had settled in the pits of his stomach, it still sloshed around strangely, slightly dampened by the food, alcohol and the company of his friends. 

 “I’d like to propose a toast to my friend Yixing, principal choreographer and tardy asshole. May good fortune befall us all.”

 Luhan raised his glass as well, and the dancer followed him.

 “CHEERS!”


	10. Passionfruit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sulay gets saucy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how to rate this chapter so I'll just say it's a bit more mature, but it's nothing too graphic at all.

DING! DING! DING! DING! DING!

Jongdae sat up and rubbed his eyes, stealing a glance at his alarm clock. It was three in the morning. Who was spamming him at this hour? He pulled his phone from the nightstand and groaned.

Baekhyun_and_Eggs 🥓🥓🥓

i just cant with chanyeol anymore

legit cant stand him

do you know he did

it is unspeakable

actually though

idk i kinda feel like dumping him right now like tbh

Jongdaebak🔥🌠🔥

What did he do now

Why tf are you not sleeping

 

okay looooook no judgement please

It’s going to be really stupid isnt it 

we got into a really big fight and now he wont apologize to me

About what

You two are too stupid to have adult conversations

true true

anyways he said that twice is the nations gg

THAT IS SO WRONG

we all know it’s snsd but he still refuses to say sorry

can you believe this man

i really feel like we cant be compatible bc of this

Wow

Why did he say that

I am shock

 

you agree with him?

No

Isnt the nations gg BTS

BiTcH

fite me

Junmyeon says its red velvet

He’s going to fanboy himself to death

 

queens only

Now stop and stfu before i actually block you

 

Sighing, he turned his phone to silent. The apartment felt strangely empty without his roomate in it. Especially since the water pipes made weird sounds in the middle of the night that were awfully unsettling.

_Or maybe it’s a serial killer._ Jongdae didn’t want to think about it, so he closed his eyes instead, and passed out.

💤💤💤

 Yixing stood outside the office for what seemed like ages, smoothing down his hair and checking himself out in the pocket mirror. He wanted to look good, especially since he hadn’t done this since high school. Today was the day. The day he would attempt to ask his landlord out.

 Minseok, who was on a mission to be the best wingman ever, had even lent him his car for this. If all went well, he would be in that car, driving Junmyeon to his recital.

 Yixing quickly fiddled with his tie, pulling at his blazer to make sure the creases looked sharp. Then, he pulled at the door, before he could deeply question himself for the third time. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it?

 It smelled like roses, and he quickly took note of the raspberry red candle.

 La Vie en Rose.

 “What are you doing here?” The tone wasn’t sharp, just confused as the landlord looked up from his desk.

 “Umm…” Yixing said, clearing his throat. He practiced this at least sixteen times yesterday and twenty-four today.

_You’ve got this._

 “If you clogged the toilet, there’s a courtesy plunger under the sink. Just make sure to wash it after you’ve used it.” Junmyeon’s attention drifted to his lap, and Yixing was desperate to get it back.

 “Look, I know this is a little too soon, but I was wondering if you had any free time today. I have a dance recital, and it would mean a lot for me if you would come.”

 Junmyeon looked up slowly, a smile spilling over his features.

 “I’d love to.”

☕☕☕

 The auditorium was spacious and wide, with row after row of plush velvet chairs. The grand, black drapes hung from the ceiling, tumbling down elegantly from the sides of the traditional brick walls, lined with speakers. It even had the traditional theatre smell, a mix of antique paper and the aroma of hardwood.

 “Wow,” Junmyeon gaped behind Yixing. “It’s amazing.”

 “The show hasn’t even started, dummy.”

 “I know, I just-”

 “Yixing!” a voice called from the stage, sharp and demanding. “Get your ass up here! The show’s about to start in five minutes.”

 “Yes, ma’am.” He turned to salute the light haired woman that imposingly, with a scowl on her face as she assessed Junmyeon.

 “Just stay put, and I’ll be back after intermission.” Yixing said quickly, before sprinting down the aisle and up the stairs.

 “I’m coming, Hyoyeon!”

💢💢💢

 It was almost hypnotizing watching him dance on stage.

 No, screw that. It was hot as fuck, and Junmyeon felt his face heating up as he watched Yixing roll his body sensually under the purple glow of the shimmering lights. The rest of the show had been amazing, but now his eyes were only on him, him only.

 He swallowed the lump in his throat as the dancer peeled off his shirt, throwing it off the stage into a clump of overly excitable teenage girls.

_Is that a twelve-pack?_

 Junmyeon suddenly felt super self-conscious, not only as he examined his arms for their unimpressive muscle mass, but because his groin was stirring like it hadn’t done since his body was raging with teenage hormones.

_No._

 He had been betrayed by his own body. The music finished with a loud bang, followed by peals of deafening cheers from the crowd. Junmyeon’s stomach lurched as the lights slowly brightened around him, just in time for intermission. Instinctively, his fingers were crossed inside his pockets in a final plea of laying low, for just this once.

 “Did you grab my sweater for me? It’s kinda chilly.” Yixing asked, approaching him. His body was still coated with a thin sheen of sweat that made him shine with a sexy lustre in the light.

 Junmyeon nodded back, handing the dancer his hoodie, and crossing his legs as best he could.

 “Are you ready to go?”

 Again, he bobbed his head passively, praying that neither of them would stare down. Thankfully, the lights dimmed back down for the second part of the performance, and Yixing didn’t seem to notice the obvious bulge in Junmyeon’s pants as he stood up and fumbled around in the seats for the theatre exit.

 “This way,” Yixing said, using his firm grip catch a very flustered Junmyeon, who was in mid-trip from not watching his footwork. The other’s breath hitched in his throat, as the two hands guided him back up carefully.

 The dancer leaned closer into him, without dropping his arms. They snaked to Junmyeon’s waist, and he swallowed hard under his gaze.

 “Did you enjoy the performance?”

 “I did,” the brunette choked out, barely able to breath. Things had definitely taken a turn for the worse, and he wasn’t sure if he needed his inhaler or the ambulance.

 “Good.” Yixing’s lips twitched a little.

  _Go for it._ Minseok’s voice echoed clearly in his head, and the dancer made up his mind, right then and there.

 Junmyeon’s eyes were wide as saucers as Yixing leaned in slowly, giving him time to pull away.

 But he didn’t, and he forced his eyes shut as he felt a pair of gentle lips collide with his own, softly and sweetly. He brought his own hands up and tangled them in Yixing’s black locks as the other pressed his back into the wall, cradling his face gently as their mouths moved together, causing shudders to move down both of their spines.

 “I’m so sorry,” Yixing said, after they had pulled away from each other. “This is really inappropriate, and super sudden, I didn’t mean for it-”

 Junmyeon shut him up by closing the distance, and pressing their lips together, grabbing fistfuls of Yixing’s black hoodie in the process.

 “You’re right,” he panted, once they were both breathless. “Let’s leave this until I get you home.”

🔴🔴🔴

 The rest of the trip back home rushed into a blur, and before Junmyeon knew it, he was pulling Yixing through his apartment and into the bedroom.

 Somehow, his shirt had been worked off in the process, but he didn’t mind as the dancer pressed his own warm body against him, fingers digging into his hips and pushing him into the wall.

 A slight moan escaped his lips as his jeans were unzipped and kicked aside, falling into a puddle on the floor.

 Soon, their undergarments joined, and they were on the bed, dishevelled and hot. Yixing had him pinned down beneath him, making Junmyeon feel oddly vulnerable as their hands traced each other, hungry for every bit of skin they could feel on each other.

 They were eager to explore, and goosebumps prickled up wherever the dancer’s fingers trailed. Junmyeon shuddered as his legs were spread open. He hadn’t done this in years, and he was a mixture of anticipation and nerves when he leaned up to connect their mouths in a passionate kiss.

 “Nightstand,” he whispered softly, before collapsing into the sheets. There was a clack of the drawers, and a slight giggle when Yixing turned the bottle over into his hands, inspecting the label like some sort of novice detective.

 “Passionfruit?” he said, voice full of amusement. “Always thought you were more of a cherry kind of guy.” He was interrupted by a finger, pressed to his lips.

 “Just shut up,” Junmyeon rasped weakly, “and take me already.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for writing this.


	11. Ticklish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junmyeon has a bad limp, birthday cake is not a flavour, Sunny thinks giving out free food is a sin, and in a pinch, towels double as blankets!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter might be kinda redundant, and very cliche.
> 
> :(
> 
> Have a nice day!

 “Wow. What a warrior,” Chanyeol said, as Junmyeon slowly entered the room. The landlord glowed with a new radiance, even if he was shuffling along at the pace of a snail and dragging a foot behind the other.

 The three boys were already clustered around a coffee table in Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s new shared apartment, doing absolutely nothing as usual.

 “We commend our fallen soldier,” Baekhyun retorted, stuffing his face full of popcorn. Jongdae followed suit, pouring the burnt kernels into his mouth.

 “I didn’t know you bottomed,” he asked casually, through teeth full of corn.

 “Oh shut up.” Baekhyun elbowed him in the side, earning a shout from the dark haired boy. “You’re a total bottom yourself.”

 “AM NOT!” his friend whined back, crossing his arms.

 “He has a good point,” Chanyeol mused. “Jongdae looks like a switch to me.”

 “No way.” Junmyeon piped up, still limping with great difficulty. “He’s a top. I know it.”

 The other two in the room scrunched up their faces, and before they knew it, Chanyeol, Baekhyun and the temporarily disabled Junmyeon had launched themselves into another meaningless debate about their friend’s sex life.

 “Look at him. Is he not a twink?”

 “It depends, Baek. I mean, if he were dating-”

 “ENOUGH!” Jongdae screamed, clamping his ears tightly. Baekhyun’s eyes were getting all shifty, which meant he was exerting massive control to not utter out a dirty joke.

 “I still think he tops,” Junmyeon coughed out. The florist rolled his eyes.

 “STOP! Let’s talk about the important stuff.”

 As if there was an invisible cue, everyone leaned in at once. “Yessss,” Chanyeol hissed, making Junmyeon recoil.

 “Who’d ya hook up with?”

 The three boys were wide eyed with amazement around him, and Junmyeon felt his head heat up to a hundred degrees in a split second.

 “His name is Yixing.”

 “Who’s that? Is he Chinese?”

 “.......Yes.”

 “How old is he?”

 “GOOD GOD, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?! WE HOOKED UP ONCE AND NOW IT’S LIKE I’M GOING TO A JOB INTERVIEW!”

 “Holy Jesus, you let a stranger shove his dong up your ass? You must be desperate.”

 “Hey-hey…..stop it, Baekhyun. You’re making him angry.” Jongdae elbowed his friend, causing the sandy brown colored hair on his head to bounce lightly. He pointed at Junmyeon, who looked traffic-light red, like he was going to implode any second now.

 “We’re happy for you, you know right?” Chanyeol said. “We just want to meet this Yixing.”

 “So we’ll know his address and we can beat him up if he ever does you wrong.” Baekhyun flicked his chin in the air.

 Junmyeon hated him a little less now.

 “Of course. I’ll point him out if we ever run into him.”

 He leaned over to grab a handful of the popcorn….and immediately spit it out.

🍿🍿🍿

 The professor didn’t look too happy when Jongdae turned on his heels to head out the classroom door. The botany lesson had just wrapped up, and the student couldn’t wait to go home and have a relaxing nap, along with finishing the new K-Drama he had started on.

 “Jongdae, come here,” the prof said, gesturing with a yellowed nail.

 “Yes, sir.” He walked over, obediently, knowing better than to question the man.

 His prof was the textbook version of what you would find if you googled professor. His name was Lee Soo-man, but everyone called him SM sir…..if they didn’t call him a flaming heap of egotistic garbage that overworked all his students to the bone.

 In Jongdae’s opinion, he wasn’t all bad. Sure, he was strict and made up controlling rules, but compared to the other prof YG, he would have taken any other class in a heartbeat. According to Chanyeol, the best professors were JYP and the new lecturer, who seemed to be a “big hit” among the students.

 Jongdae’s contemplation was interrupted by the piercing gaze of his professor, who cleared his throat with dominance.

 As if that was a thing.

 “Do you see this? This is the spreadsheet that my PhD students use to assign grades.” The cursor scrolled down to his name, highlighted in orange.

 “You haven’t handed in anything from this semester. I have nothing to mark.” SM clasped his hands together and lowered his gaze at the now terrified student.

 Jongdae had heard that SM would make any student that he dislikes life living hell.

 “Take this as a light warning, or a wakeup call when I say this, because you could very well fail with your lack of work ethic here. I know you are-you were-no, you absolutely are one of the most gifted and bright students in my class, so it’s time you start acting like it.”

 His eyebrows quirked as his arms dropped to his side, not knowing that he was squeezing his backpack straps until his knuckles had turned white.

  _It’s not like the professor to let students off the hook so easily. What have I even done to make him think I was the golden boy?_

 “That’s all,” SM said gruffly, waving the student away. “Please close the door behind you. I have some important work to do.”

 Jongdae nodded politely, making his way out.

 It was no secret that the professor’s only “work” to do was watching Red Velvet videos at full volume, with unhealthy, uncomfortable levels of thirst.

🥀🥀🥀

 After the dinner dishes were washed and dried, Jongdae decided to actually get cracking on his work. He had told himself over and over again that he would eventually make time to do it, but there were so many other, better things that he could spend his time on, including but not limited to bawling his eyes out when the grandma in the K-Drama died.

_RIP Great-Auntie Ha-eun. You will be missed._

 Thankfully, Chanyeol had lent him his template for his history project, which was completely unrelated, but Jongdae was just happy to have something to go off of.

 Halfway through his lab report observations, his stomach growled. Apparently that dinner of cheese, potatoes, and cereal wasn’t enough. Setting down his pencil, Jongdae groaned when he realized there was nothing left in his fridge to eat. Without Baekhyun, he had grossly underestimated the amount of groceries he would have to buy each week.

 And then, the spark formed in his head.

_What if I go down to the cafe? They open until late; I could grab a bite and then mooch off the free wi-fi._

 It sounded like a pretty good plan to the starved boy, who was already changing from his comfy clothes(a pair of shrimp patterned boxers, and a graphic t-shirt depicting a dead meme), into something more suitable to go out in(a plain blue shirt under a grey windbreaker, black skinny jeans, and a pair of Vans).

 He checked his reflection one more time in the mirror, smoothing down the stray black curls of hair that were sticking out, and headed downstairs, cradling his binder and laptop in his hand.

 It was barely even 8:00 at night, and the half the street lights were turned on, creating a strange yellow glow on every fourth sidewalk step. The fall wind blew softly around Jongdae, a not quite unwanted draft that carried notes of dirt and a distinct burning aroma of maple.

 Today’s special was Stinging Nettle tea.

 Nobody was standing by the front entrance, as far as he could tell, so the boy craned his neck to peek into the kitchen. The last few night stragglers were all dispersed across the cafe tables, people who looked to be respectable authors and business people, and Jongdae felt out of place.

 “I’m telling you, it’s birthday cake-”

 “Birthday cake is not a flavour. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

 “No, but it’s everywhere! It’s on Oreos and ice cream and cupcakes-”

 “You can’t have a birthday cake flavoured cake, Minseok! That’s literally not a thing.”

 “I will do it, Sunny. I will prove you wrong.”

 It took a few seconds for the barista to notice Jongdae, but when he eventually did, his eyes grew wide.

 “Oh, h-hey.” Minseok put down the white mug he was carrying, and stared at the florist up and down, obviously, and shamelessly checking him out. It was almost a parody of when they first met, except the roles were reversed, and Jongdae had no idea why it felt so awkward.

 He tugged at the sleeve of his windbreaker, silently praying that there was nothing too gross hanging from his face. A slight draft blew past him as Sunny rushed around the vicinity, quickly buttoning up her coat and throwing a purse over her shoulder.

 “Birthday cake is not a flavour,” she asserted, tugging her hair out of the topknot. “My shift was supposed to be over half an hour ago.”

 “Minseok,” she ordered. “You’re working alone today. I don’t think anything too-too bad could happen. Just don’t let the cafe burn down.” Her eyes flickered, then narrowed.

 “And don’t hand out free food. Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook.”

_Yep, just like last time_ , Jongdae thought. It was like the universe wanted to mock him.

 With one last pointed look, Sunny pulled the glass door behind her. The two boys watched her disappear down the street, before the barista turned, closing the space between them by a few steps.

 “What do you want?”

 Minseok flinched. He hadn’t meant for it to come out so harsh. Fortunately, Jongdae seemed oblivious.

 “Don’t listen to her. Birthday cake is totally a thing.”

 “Agreed! Am I right? She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

 “Do you still want your bagels?” Minseok offered, scratching his arm. “You didn’t come in this morning. I saved them in the fridge.”

 “That would be nice. And thank you.”

 “You’re welcome.” The bagels were a little stale when he tasted one, but Jongdae didn’t care. He was just happy to be sitting under the cafe lights, eating warm food. The stuff he had brought with him was splayed all over the round table, a mess of papers and a laptop tossed to the side.

 He stuffed his earphones in, and turned on the lofi-hip hop playlist on his phone. Slowly, but surely, the work was getting done. His assignments were more than halfway finished, and the night was still young.

  _Maybe,_ Jongdae thought, _just maybe, I can actually do it all and head home in time to get more than six hours of sleep._

 The hours flew by, eight-thirty turning to nine, nine to ten, and eventually, Jongdae stared up at the analog clock on the wall, that read ten-thirty. He pulled out the earbuds, winding them around his finger.

 “Tired?”

 The cafe was completely empty all around him. There was only Minseok, standing at the edge of the bartop, spraying a sea of Lysol onto the counter.

 “Yeah, kinda.” Jongdae let out a suppressed yawn.

 “Me too.” The barista gave him a knowing look, scrubbing off the edge of the counter and throwing the wipe in the trash. “The cafe was supposed to close half an hour ago.”

 “Oh. I’m-uh...sorry about that.” The chair let out an unpleasant skree as Jongdae quickly stood up, gathering his stuff.

 “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I-I shouldn’t have kept you waiting like this. You probably have somewhere to be-and-and…”

 Minseok quickly shook his head, gesturing for the younger to relax.

 “No, no. Stay as long as you want. It’s really no trouble-no trouble……..at all.”

 Reluctantly, the dark-haired boy sat down, not breaking eye contact until the older turned his back, walking behind the counter with the same white mug in hand.

 “If you’re tired,” the blonde said, “have this. It’ll keep you up.”

 A single leaf shuddered in the water when Minseok set the cup in front of Jongdae.

 “Stinging nettle isn't such a palatable name, is it?”

 “It’s good though.”

 The barista admired the way that Jongdae’s lips turned slightly pink when he slurped through his teeth. He looked blindingly dashing in his windbreaker, both cool and cute at the same time. It was amazing how the boy could pull it off effortlessly.

 “Sunny’s going to kill you for giving this out free.”

 “Doesn’t matter,” Minseok said, then wondered if he should tell Jongdae that the single nettle leaf was hanging out the corner of his mouth, making him look absolutely rude and lovable simultaneously.

 Jongdae’s “done” pile had grown to the same height as his ring finger, which meant he was definitely finished. But he didn’t feel like he was in any rush to get home, so why should he?

 “Here you go,” he said, handing the cup back. Minseok’s fingers brushed against the inside of his wrist as he took the mug, and Jongdae’s skin tingled, causing him to pull back.

 “Oh, sorry.”

 “It’s no big deal.”

 “......Wait.” Suddenly, Minseok’s hand shot out of nowhere, and his fingertips brushed against the inside crook of his elbow.

 “Ah!”

 A slow grin spread over the blonde’s face, who bit the corner of his mouth, trying not to laugh.

 “Are you….ticklish?”

 “.......No!”

 The charcoal-haired boy yelped again, when his friend poked him in the side.

 “Oh, yes you are.”

 It was a sudden move, but Minseok lunged for him from across the table, seizing his arm when Jongdae tried to make a hasty escape.

 “Hey!” the boy cried out, when the barista’s fingers began to scrabble over his arm, creating fluttering sensations in his stomach. The florist quickly squirmed away, putting as much distance between him and Minseok as possible.

 They were both giggling like little children now, and from the outside in, it looked like a game of cat and mouse, with Minseok chasing Jongdae, arms outstretched, and his friend running away all the while, sides shaking from uncontrollable laughter.

 “I’ve got you!”

 The older backed the younger into a corner and tickled his sides gently.

 “Oh-my-my god….st-stop…..Minseok!” Jongdae swatted his hands away playfully, pink in the face as peals of laughter escaped his lips.

 “Never…” The barista grinned devilishly.

 They weren’t even moving now, both of them had ended up on the floor, falling and crawling over each other as they struggled to breath in between episodes of cracking up. As soon as one would stop laughing, the other would start again, and they would join each other in fits of cackling.

 At least, one of them was cackling.

  _My god,_ Jongdae thought. _Even Minseok’s laugh is perfect._ He thought his friend looked flawless when his face was scrunched up in pure joy.

 His thoughts were put on hold when the blonde stood up, the same devilish smile making a reappearance as he flittled his fingers in the air.

 “I’m coming for you,” he rasped.

 “Only if you can catch me first.”

 The tickle-fest ensued when Jongdae launched himself onto a cafe table, jumping from one tabletop to another as Minseok chased him on the ground, both of them laughing so hard they thought their sides would split.

 “You’ll never catch me, my Baozi!”

 The barista blushed at the nickname, shaking his head lightly as Jongdae stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry.

 It was so ridiculous, it made him want to laugh more.

 There was a harsh squeak as the florist’s Vans skidded on the tile floor.

 “Careful there,” Minseok warned, making note of the slippery surface. Jongdae had backed up into the nook where the washrooms were located.

 “Woah…..” His friend grasped his arm with an iron grip to steady himself.

 “W-wo-WOAH!”

 They collided on the floor, heads bumping, elbows smacking and Minseok laying on top of Jongdae, barely touching as he broke his fall with his arms.

 As he leaned in close, Jongdae immediately decided that Minseok smelled like three things:

 1. The scent of spring linen, hung out on a beautiful March afternoon to dry under a bluey sky and pale clouds-

 2. Maple wood, emulating the taostiness of a campfire under a blanket of stars, embers flickering up like the golden flecks in Minseok’s eyes-

 3. The rich aroma of brewed coffee, exotic and dark, all pale cream skin and a sweet heart in the boy that stood before him

 It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. No cologne, no suffocating perfumes or tobacco smoke.

 Just a curiously pretty barista that gazed at him with amber eyes and a gummy smile.

 “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” Minseok waved a hand in front of Jongdae’s face, and he blinked in surprise.

 He wanted to bottle up Minseok’s scent in little jars. It was better than Junmyeon’s basic candles by a mile.

 “Is something wrong?” The blonde boy furrowed his brow in concern, carefully inspecting his friend for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

 “No,” Jongdae said, blushing under the barista’s gaze.

_You smell so nice…._

 “Thanks,” Minseok muttered, and Jongdae’s eyebrows shot up.

_Shitshitshitshitshit._

 Did he really HAVE to say that out loud?

🍃🍃🍃

 After they had picked themselves off the ground, they found themselves sitting together, around the table where Jongdae had messily shoved his stuff together to make space for Minseok.

 The conversation just flowed naturally from there; they talked about everything and anything that came to their mouths.

 Including spilling the tea about their friends.

 “Junmyeon hooked up with some Chinese guy.” Jongdae held his mug snugly(Minseok had been nice enough to pour him another drink), and shook his head with a slight smile on his face.

 “I actually can’t believe he would be the kind of guy to do it. He’s always talking to us about going slow and steady.”

 “A Chinese guy?”

 “His name’s like Yi-Yi….something.”

 “Jesus Christ. Yixing?”

 Minseok was going to kill his friend for not telling him earlier.

 “Yixing? The person you were waiting for in the lobby?”

 “The dancer guy. Yeah.”

 Jongdae’s lips widened into an O. “Have you ever had a one-night stand?”

 The question came out less awkward than he would have thought, but Minseok felt his face begin to heat up anyways. The younger thought it was cute, but immediately felt bad for putting him on the spot.

 “No…...I haven’t,” the blonde finally replied. “Have you?”

_Actually, I don’t want to know._

 “Twice. Once was with a girl, where I got really drunk on prom night, the other was with this guy at a bar, about two years ago. I don’t think I’ve had a real relationship in at least three years.”

 Jongdae caught note of the perplexed expression on Minseok’s face.

 “Oh, and yeah. I’m bisexual.”

_Great. There’s still hope._

 Something heavy took off from the barista’s chest when the florist looked straight into his eyes and said those words. He knew he was acting like a fourteen-year old, but he couldn’t help it.

 Thankfully, the conversation shifted to complaining endlessly about everything. If Minseok was a natural ranter, Jongdae was just a whining machine.

 The clock had struck midnight but neither of them protested, secretly thinking how nice it was, how nice this was, with the two of them together, doing nothing and everything at once. Even if they were seperated by the tabletop, they never felt closer.

 Sitting, talking, laughing, like real friends.

 “I’ll refill it for you,” Minseok said, grabbing Jongdae’s empty glass.

 “Thanks.” The dark-haired boy slumped down in his chair, exhausted. His papers were completed, albeit forgotten, and it was just so comfortable here, in the warm lighting, with the residual scent of good food-

 Jongdae’s eyelids fluttered and he let out a deep yawn as he curled up into himself.

 “Jongdae?” Minseok rushed over to the boy, sprawled over the chair, completely passed out. He didn’t want to wake him up, with his eyes shut tight, and his arms rested comfortably under his head.

 Sure, it was creepy, but Minseok didn’t think twice before deciding that he would stay here until he woke up. He took in every detail of Jongdae’s sleeping form(non-creepily, of course);the way his long lashes fluttered just above his rose-tinted cheeks, the rise and fall of his chest.

 The barista found the fluffiest kitchen towel he could, and brought it back to the dining area, to drape his friend in the soft white material.

_How can he be so unbearably endearing?_ Minseok thought.

💤💤💤

 “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

 Jongdae groaned, eyes still closed.

 “No, no….no,” he muttered, blindly, as he set his head back down, and flinched. It hit wood, and he immediately snapped his eyes open, squinting to get his pupils to adjust to the light.

 Where was he? His mind raced with all the possibilities. Where did he go before he fell asleep?

_The cafe. Did I go home? Then, how did I get home? I can’t remember! If I didn’t go home, that means that…_

 Jongdae’s vision suddenly sharpened, then focused as he sat up, shrugging off the white towel that had somehow been wrapped around him.

_What the hell?_

 “You’re awake.”

 Minseok looked up at him with those big dark eyes, sprinkled with golden flecks-

_Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous._

 “What time is it?” Jongdae rubbed his eyes crankily. He couldn’t believe this.

 “Almost four-o’clock in the morning.”

_Oh, no._

 The younger scrambled off the chair, gathering his stuff in one hands as he fumbled towards the door with another. How was this happening? He fell asleep in the cafe, and Minseok didn’t even bother to kick him out or wake him up.

 His face began to heat up as he pictured the barista tucking him in.

 “I’m sorry,” Jongdae muttered, rushing towards the door. “I’m sorry I kept you up all night-”

 “No, really. It’s fine. It’s okay.”

 “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

 “I-I don’t know? You just looked so comfortable there, and so peaceful that I didn’t bother….”

 “Then why did you stay here all night?” He sounded almost angry, and Minseok’s expression softened.

 “Jongdae, I wasn’t going to leave you there….why would I do that?”

 The dark haired boy took a step for the exit and almost fell forwards. At least, he thought he fell forwards.

_Maybe I’m just swooning._

 “I’m just-just sorry that this happened,” he choked out, suddenly feeling overwhelmed for no reason.

 “It’s fine.”

  _God, his eyes, his cheeks, his hair..._

 Jongdae shut the door behind him as he left in a panic, putting one foot in front of another until he reached the apartment elevators. A finger pecked at the buttons, while he rested his head against the chrome metal.

  _Curse Minseok. Curse those breathtaking eyes, curse those adorable cheeks, curse his softness. Curse him._

 He couldn’t wait to fall asleep and forget about the whole situation.


	12. Seven Digits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irene and Amber aren't subtle at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter!
> 
> :)

 “You look like hell,” Amber piped up, four seats down at the cafe bar. The girl had become a common occurrence at EXODUS lately. She was here every second morning, if not everyday.

 “I know,” Minseok groaned, scrubbing at his face with a paper towel. It was tough work roasting coffee beans.

_It’s because I stayed up all night to watch over Jongdae. I’d do it again, though._

 Irene walked up behind him, precariously balancing a plate of tuna sandwiches on her elbow. “Careful there with the beans. It’s full-city roast, not a goddamn cremation.”

 “The poor boy’s just distracted,” Amber defended, flicking her free hand towards Minseok.

 “He’s always distracted. Probably daydreaming about Jongdae and what not.”

 Yup, Irene could not only turn back an army with her dead-eyed stare, but she could also mind read.

 “Jongdae? As in our neighbour, Jongdae?”

 “Unfortunately.” The girls looked almost appalled by Minseok’s “poor taste” in men.

 “What?” he snapped defensively. “There’s nothing wrong with me, or Jongdae for that matter? He’s my friend! He’s funny, he’s creative, he’s-”

 “Shut up, Minseok. You’re babbling again.”

 “Sorry. It’s weird, isn’t it.”

 Amber looked up from her plate, licking the sauce from her fingers.

 “Your little obsession? Maybe.”

 “I AM NOT OBSESSED.”

 “Want his number?” Irene held up her phone and waved it like it was a dog treat, testing out the blonde’s patience.

 “.........Yes….! Do you have it?”

 “I used to,” Irene said, making a face. “Just let me check.” She quickly skimmed through her contacts, trying to ignore the fact that Minseok was standing right over her shoulder, breathing heavily like he needed an inhaler.

 “Yeah, nope. I blocked him.” She held out her screen and shook her head helplessly. “Just trust me on this. Jongdae is not somebody who you want to text. He’s annoying.”

 “Speak of the devil,” Amber muttered, pointing a thumb towards the entrance, at a boy in a dark-green high neck hoodie, kicking at the ground with his Converse sneakers.

 “Wait.” Irene’s eyes gleamed, and she stepped across the floor quickly, seizing Amber’s arm and dragging her to the kitchen.

 “Get him his bagels, or what you usually do,” the girl said, before shoving Amber forcefully towards the cooling rack.

 “Where are you going?”

 “Just do your job!”

 That answer was fine for Minseok; he knew better than to question Irene, and he didn’t think too much of the hushed whispers coming from the kitchen as he quickly packaged the bagels and handed them over.

 Jongdae took them without a word, mouth melting into a soft smile.

 “Stop right there!” Amber suddenly screamed, barrelling from the kitchen with her palm outstretched like an anime policeman.

 “W-what?”

 “If you would like to pass-” Amber said, sliding her feet towards the glass door, which Irene had appeared out of nowhere and was now blocking with her arms, “you’ll need to tell me the secret password.”

 “The secret password,” Jongdae repeated, bagel crumbs spewing everywhere.

 “Yes. I’ll give you a hint. The password is a combination of numbers. Seven numbers.” Amber caught Minseok’s eye and winked, and he knew exactly what was going on.

 “Excuse me,” he said hurriedly, rushing past the line of customers to get to the washroom. This was not going to be pretty, whatever their plan was.

 As soon as he flipped the washroom latch closed, a wave of relief(and also chlorine scented toilet cleaner) flooded through him.

_Phew._ He could ride out the remainder of the time in here, and perhaps avoid the direct fallout of Irene and Amber’s horrible wing-girlling.

 Minseok made a mental note to never do this to Yixing as he pressed his ear to the door and listened.

 At first, there was some inaudible grumbling, followed by a woman’s voice talking. Then a man’s. Then a random shout, and a wail that had to be Jongdae’s, because nobody else could hit those high notes just like him.

 “I’ll talk to him,” somebody said.

 “Can you write it down?” another voice suggested.

 After that, there were sounds of a pencil scratching, followed by footsteps and the firm closing of a door. Minseok waited it out for a few more seconds, just to be safe rather than sorry.

_Coast is clear._

 He exited cautiously, doing the thing where he played with his sleeves when he was nervous. The two girls were already waiting for him across the counter, their big, stretched out smiles more real than fake as Amber approached him, and pressed something into his hand.

 “You’re welcome,” they both said in unison. “But you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into,” Irene quickly added.

 It was a single sliver of paper, curled at the edges. As he unfolded it and smoothed it out, there was a series of seven numbers on the back.

 He didn’t need it, he could always message Jongdae on Instagram or something…..

 But he wanted it, and that was a different story. Smiling, Minseok typed the number into his phone, saving it for later.


	13. Golden Groves Group Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junmyeon makes a group chat for the tenants of his apartment literally no reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Texting! because I'm getting a little lazy. This chapter is kinda cringey, but I guess all of them are. But that's okay; it'll be back to regular(bad)chapter format by Chapter 15.

Suho created a group chat!  
Suho renamed the group chat to: Golden Groves  
Suho added Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥, Ohgoshnalliya 👌👌👌, YerianaGrande to the group  
chat!

 

Suho - testing testing

Ohgoshnalliya👌👌👌 - what is this?

Suho - i made a group chat for everyone  
seulgi  
i think

 

Suho added baechu 💗, JumpwithJoy, to the group chat!

 

baechu💗 - wtf?

Suho - its supposed to be a group chat for all the tenants  
you can message me or each other if you want

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - im just gonna go out and say what we were all thinking  
this is really stupid

 

Suho added olaf❄, LayZhang to the group chat!

 

YerianaGrande - who is lay zhang

olaf❄ - the guy who moved in last week i think

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥- yeah he hooked up with junmyeon

baechu 💗 - woah  
*chokes on tea*

 

Suho has left the chat

 

YerianaGrande - no way

JumpwithJoy - our junmyeon? the one who buys novelty candles

Ohgoshnalliya 👌👌👌 - :0

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥- im not kidding guys

LayZhang - i can 100% confirm that this happened

YerianaGrande - i am sh00k

baechu 💗 - suho=suhoe

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥- shut up

JumpwithJoy - yeah shut up irene

 

Suho has joined the chat

 

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - but lets get real though  
was he good in bed?

 

Suho has left the chat

 

LayZhang - oml

YerianaGrande - ayeyaiyai i am but a child  
stop corrupting my mind with this

Suho has joined the chat

Suho has added findamberschest2019, and stanluna to the group chat!

 

stanluna - hello  
idk what else to do

JumpwithJoy - i want a girlfriend now riiiiip

baechu 💗 - im going to throw up

olaf❄- im so confused  
when did our junmyeon suddenly  
become such a player  
argh  
i am not okay

YerianaGrande - shipshipshipshipship

Suho - im still single  
it was one hookup you pervs

findamberschest2019 - ok i know this is kinda random but im at the laundromat for the first time and idk what to do  
this is so confusing  
someone help  
do i use the blue downy unstoppables or the pink

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - pink

Ohgoshnalliya 👌👌👌 - no blue

stanluna - dont listen to them

Jongdaebak - FOOLS  
shimmer is better than fresh

JumpingwithJoy - i always use the peach ones

Suho - peach?

JumpingwithJoy - the ones that say glow

Suho - ive never heard of that

JumpingwithJoy - ik  
they smelled so good so i kept them to myself  
i hid them under the ironing board in the laundry closet

findamberschest2019 - nvm theres purple right here  
best of both worlds  
pink and blue

YerianaGrande - purple is the BEST color

findamberschest2019 - it says lush  
idk wtf that means but okay

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - Remember when baek snorted a teaspoon of those

baechu 💗 - oml yes  
and then he started bawling his eyes out because he thought they were some poison alien beans  
they looked like cosmic boogers

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - lmao

Ohgoshnalliya 👌👌👌 - what when was this  
istg this is so random

JumpwithJoy - btw guys i went to walmart the other day and guess who i saw

stanluna - who?

JumpwithJoy - it was literally the old man  
he looks exactly the same but somehow worse  
it was bad when he recognized me

olaf❄ - you run girl  
run girl run

JumpwithJoy - he looked like he wanted to suck my soul out

YerianaGrande - speaking of soul sucking  
halloween is in a week guys

baechuunnie 💗 - this soon?

stanluna - i totally forgot

Ohgoshnalliya 👌👌👌 - we have a big party every year  
for that and christmas

stanluna - free food?

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - I think so

baechuunnie 💗 - junmyeon bought pineapple pizza last year  
it was the scariest part of the whole night

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - Dont come for the best pizza

baechu 💗 - how dare you

Ohgoshnalliya 👌👌👌 - team pepperoni

YerianaGrande - you have been stopped

Ohgoshnalliya 👌👌👌 - pepperoni is superior

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - team pineapple

baechu 💗 - team cheese

LayZhang - lol  
i never quite liked pizza

Ohgoshnalliya 👌👌👌 - who tf is this man?

JumpwithJoy - gasp  
how dare you

stanluna - did he just

LayZhang - i just did

YerianaGrande - im going as ariana grande for halloween  
that was unrelated but w/e

Suho - this is going to sound so rude but arent you too old to be dressing up anymore?

baechu 💗 - you take that back before my poor sister starts crying

YerianaGrande - TT

Ohgoshnalliya 👌👌👌 - look what you did

baechu 💗 - if you don’t apologize right now suho i will jump your old woman ass in front of your disgusting smelling office

 

Suho has left the chat

 

findamberschest2019 - my clothes smell gooood ahhhhhh  
the purple scent is my life

YerianaGrande - told you so

 

stanluna, JumpwithJoy have left the chat

 

LayZhang - i swear this place is like a crackhead convention  
i love it

 

LayZhang has left the chat

 

Ohgoshnalliya 👌👌👌 - im leaving

 

Ohgoshnalliya 👌👌👌 has left the chat

 

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - baekhyun just texted me  
he wants me to ask you guys a question  
its related to the argument he was having with chanyeol

YerianaGrande - not another power couple splitting up

olaf❄- if chanbaek is a power couple to you you need to set some standards

findamberschest2019 - just tell us the question

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - who is the nations gg

olaf❄ - no  
not this again  
i beg you

 

Suho has joined the chat

 

Suho - Red velvet  
my queens

 

Suho has left the chat

 

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - i sent a screenshot to baekhyun  
he is NOT happy

 

findamberschest, olaf❄, YerianaGrande have left the chat

 

baechu 💗 - is anyone still here

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - me

baechu 💗 - oh just you  
well

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - arent i your best friend?

baechu 💗 - hahahaha  
that made me slightly sad

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - i have like five and a half friends  
im actually pathetic

baechu 💗 - pretty sure minseok counts as two with the way you two treat each other

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - whats that supposed to mean

 

baechu 💗 has left the chat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, the red Downy Unstopables smell the best to me.


	14. Meatballs and Makeovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jongdae didn't know that Minseok waxed his legs, but somehow, it triggers a wave of ingenuity inside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry! 
> 
> I forgot this existed for a week, so here, have two badly written chapters to make up for it!
> 
> This is the longest chapter I've written by a long-shot, and it's barely coherent OTL, but well....

 He got two surprises when he arrived home.

 Setting his keys and bag on the corner, Jongdae was pleased to find out that morning glories could in fact, grow in late mid-October. They were Minseok’s flowers, and he had placed them under a heating lamp on his windowsill(the same heating lamp that he had in fact, stolen from work).

 “Hey there, buddy,” Jongdae said, cocking his head and tenderly stroking the sprout in between his two fingers. It almost seemed to tremble in his hand, the delicate green leaves shaking under the touch.

 The weeks before, he had painstakingly prepared the soil by measuring precise amounts of fertilizer and water. It was pleasing to see at least, that he hadn’t screwed up this one thing.

_You know what,_ he thought, crossing the living room, _it almost cancels out today’s shitty day._

 For one, Jongdae had missed the bus this morning, and Chanyeol vehemently refused to give him the window seat on the ride back from the campus. Secondly, the professor was out to ruin his life with another whopping two assignments.

_Fuck plant taxonomy. And plant ecology. Fuck SM._

 Perhaps he really just was a masochist.

 Exhibit A - He was still friends with Baekhyun and Chanyeol. Maybe Irene too, but he wouldn’t count on it.

 Exhibit B - He still hadn’t dropped out from school.

 Botany was supposed an easy major! He liked flowers, and vegetables(well really, just potatoes), and fruit….?

 Sadly for him, he also liked wasting time.

 Jongdae shook his head and pulled out a pencil, a jelly eraser, and his slightly crumpled folders that stank slightly of something ambiguously wet. They went into his messenger bag; the one Yeri had inspired him to buy.

 He was going to the cafe again, no question about it.

 Theoretically, he had been productive, and if all else failed, it was better to have Sunny, Irene or Minseok nag him than cover for his own irresponsible ass.

 Provided, Minseok didn’t **become the distraction**.

 Slinging his bag over one shoulder, the florist made sure to lock the door behind him. The elevator made a shaking sound when it hit ground floor, and he held in a little scream as he stepped into the lobby.

 When he approached the cafe, taking his steps with leaps in between, Jongdae made sure to check the special sign. It was something along the lines of “Vanilla Bean Latte”, and he looked up a split second later to see Sunny on the inside, waving happily with a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser in hand.

 “Come in!” She unlatched the door for him, propping the window washing bucket up on her knee.

 “Thanks….” he replied absentmindedly, walking past her.

 The scent of bleach stung his nose, and the sounds of wet cloth on glass panes weren’t exactly music to his ears, but Jongdae took the nearest seat to the entrance as possible. The place was packed with after-work customers, and hipster Reddit teens who were flooding in after school, staking out the tables obnoxiously.

 Carefully, Jongdae laid out his binder, then his phone, and arranged his pen, pencil and eraser at ninety-degree angles. He sharpened the pencil to a needlepoint before pulling apart his earbuds.

 Turning on his Spotify, he switched it to “This is Taeyeon” to make Baekhyun proud, and then slipped in the earphones to drown out the noise with quality music.

 The time really did fly by as his pencil did the same on his sheet, filling the page with his scratchy writing and graphite smears from the points where Jongdae had pressed too hard into the paper. The playlist looped once, and then twice.

 He was already picking up the working pace, and the florist was so immersed in his work that he didn’t even look up when the rag dragged across the windows with the occasional **screeech** , or **rreeee**.

 Soon, even that disappeared as the boss took her pail to douse down the kitchen. There was the slightly audible sound of splashing water over the noise of all the rambling teens, and then a moist **squish**.

 Jongdae stretched out his arms and shook out his hands before hunching over the makeshift desk again.

 He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he looked up again, but he saw Sunny trotting out the kitchen, pulling her sequined coat over one shoulder, and Minseok trailing behind her with a raised voice. Most of the customers had already gone home, and he paused the playlist so he could check the time.

 It was already half-past six, and Jongdae’s eyebrows shot up. He yanked out the earbuds with one hand, and gathered his stuff with the other.

  “Listen to me-” Sunny began, crossing her arms.

  “Listen to ME!” Minseok pointed at his own chest, his voice slightly cracking.

 “We’re not putting that in the coffee. I forbid heinous crimes like these.” The girl turned, her bag slapping against her silver jacket as she did so.

 “It’s cake. Millennials love mythical and mysterious flavours-”

 “Birthday cake is about as real as a unicorn to me,” Sunny asserted. She took a step towards the door and Minseok seemed to follow like a magnet towards his boss.

 “Please-please-please-please!” the blonde begged. Sunny gave him a look of disdain that softened as she pushed his face away.

 “I’m running tight on time.” She checked her watch and dodged another plea from Minseok. “You take good care of my baby EXODUS for me.”

 “Yes, ma’am,” Minseok saluted, giving his signature reassurance. Sunny ducked out the door with a final wave, before the barista suddenly turned to Jongdae and gave him a confused shrug.

 “No luck with the birthday cake?” Jongdae asked, half-shouting across the cafe.

 “Nope. She’s so intolerant sometimes.” The older let out a sigh and his eyes flickered down to chair, opposite from the florist’s table.

 “Do you mind if I sit down?”

 “Oh. Yes. Wait, no.” Jongdae thought for a second.

 “Yes, you can sit down and no, I don’t mind.”

 He let out an awkward laugh when Minseok pulled the stool up, scooting closer until their knees were almost touching under the table.

 “I need a break,” the blonde groaned, rubbing his eyes and slumping onto the table. “Somebody needs tell Sunny to hire someone else. I feel overworked and underpaid.” He looked at Jongdae, as if he was expecting a response.

 “Can’t relate.” The younger leaned back in his seat. “I literally make bouquets all day.”

 Minseok stuck out his tongue as he stood up, pushing out the chair with him. “I’m jealous.”

 The barista ducked in between the rows of tables and under the bar to reach the back counter, where he grabbed a cup off the top of a large sack and poured in something from a metal pitcher. There was a snap of a plastic lid and he brought it back to Jongdae, setting it down on the tabletop gently.

 “Today’s special.”

 “And don’t tell Sunny,” Minseok added as the dark-haired boy brought the paper cup to his mouth.

 “It’s-” Jongdae wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and struggled to find words that described the taste.

 The older simply shrugged at the indifference. “It’s not really my thing either, the-three bean water…”

 “Huh?”

 “Three beans,” Minseok recited. “Vanilla bean, coffee bean, soybean.”

 “Ah.” The florist took another sip and swallowed immediately at the taste. It was sweet…..diabetic sweet as if there were something to hide. It tasted like a piece of tofu, frosted as a vanilla cake.

 “It was Irene’s idea.” The blonde looked around, and Jongdae set the cup to the side, intending to never touch it again. Minseok was just so nice to bring him stuff for free whenever he dropped by, and he almost felt a pang of guilt as he pushed away the drink.

 “Is that Fancy?” the barista asked.

 “What?” Jongdae looked down at his phone, and tapped twice to pause the playlist, which was still blasting after all this time.

 “Is that Fancy?!”

 “Um, yeah.” He brushed off his earbuds and offered them to Minseok.

 “You’re a Once? I really didn’t expect that.”

 His friend bobbed his head to the music and looked up with wide eyes.

 “I’m just a casual fan.”

 The sight of Minseok, hands clamped tight over his ears and a beam on his face as he mouthed the lyrics was somehow endearing in a way, and Jongdae sat back with a ghost of a smile on his face to enjoy the view.

 “Fancy,” the older mouthed, then giggled awkwardly.

 “Fancy!” Minseok said louder, and blew a kiss to Jongdae, who immediately felt his face bloom from embarrassment. The grin retracted, and he groaned instead, hiding his eyes.

 “It’s a song lyric,” the barista hummed happily, completely oblivious.

 Slightly annoyed, and still blushing, Jongdae used his two fingers to tap on the screen, skipping the other half of the song.

 “Hey!” Minseok slapped his arm lightly, cursing. “What the hell! It was just getting to the rap part.”

 The music shuffled to DALLA DALLA, and the florist racked up the sound until the disgruntled blonde was forced to take off the headphones, rolling his eyes at Jongdae’s petty display.

 “I hate you.”

 “I know.” The florist stood up, dodging when Minseok’s arms reached for him, fingers wiggling in a way that could only mean one thing.

 “Don’t you dare,” he warned, jumping back onto the floor.

 The barista stepped forwards, misjudging the size of the table instead, and whacking his knee on the sharp corner. His mouth widened into an almost comical “o”, before he dropped to the ground soundlessly, cradling his leg.

 “Are you okay?!”

 Jongdae got on his knees beside him, carefully studying Minseok’s scrunched up face for any signs of distress. The older nodded slightly, extending his injured knee and sitting up, grabbing onto his friend for support.

 “Are you bleeding?” His fingers lifted at Minseok’s pant hem, rolling it up gingerly and jerkily. His fingers ghosted over his milk-white skin and-

 “You wax your legs?” Jongdae smirked as the blonde punched his shoulder lightly.

 “Not the time.” He finished the action himself, riding the fabric up to his mid-thigh before leaning over to inspect the wound.

 The skin was only slightly punctured in an almost triangle shape and the surrounding flesh was swollen pink, with little bubbles of blood rushing to the surface.

 “Bandaids are in the back, second drawer to the left, down from the stove.” Minseok took a napkin to dab at the streaky lines of blood, wincing when it stung. Jongdae quickly got to his feet and rummaged around in the kitchen, until he came back, holding the bandage like a national treasure.

 The florist dropped to his knees and taped the Bandaid over the wound, smoothing it down with his two cold fingers slowly and carefully. He then made a show of ogling his friend’s exposed calves, swallowing hard in awe.

 “See something you like?” Minseok commented dully.

 “No,” the florist squeaked, aware that he had been staring at the barista like a piece of meat.

 His legs were just so hairless, like a naked mole rat, every wisp pulled from the flesh to reveal pink and glossy skin, pulled tight over ripples of toned muscle-

 “If you take a picture,” the barista derided, taking Jongdae’s hand to help himself up, “it might last longer.”

 Jongdae opened his mouth for a witty reply, and closed it again. He was afraid he might start drooling.

☕☕☕

 When he went home, he laid in bed but he couldn’t sleep, for the mental image of Minseok on the ground, with that amazing, perfect pair of legs, was burned onto his eyelids.

 Jongdae sat up in the dark room, pulling open the curtains to reveal an expanse of October sky, already deep blue and flickering with city lights and stars. It was only eight o’clock; he had dashed home after the tickling accident, dropping a quick “see you later” along with it. He also “forgot” the drink there too, for good measure.

 The florist extended his half-asleep legs, pulling his boxer shorts up and sinking back down. They were long and skinny, with knobbly knees. In fact, the only place he grew hair was probably on his legs; Irene had likened him to a naked mole rat on a few occasions when she was feeling testy.

 He rubbed his legs together like a cricket, and bristled when the hairs brushed against each other.

 Did he want Minseok’s legs, or the full package? His emotions were somewhere along the line of jealous admiring.

 Jongdae stared down at his own, covered with wispy strands of black, and set his mouth into a firm line.

 He was going to have to do some serious legscaping.

🦵🦵🦵

 Jongdae dashed into the supermarket, shielding his head with his arms. He squinted in the face of the bright lights and remembered what he was here for. His shoes were slick from the rainwater, and squelched as he walked, fast-paced, towards the back of the store.

 The Personal Care and Hygiene sign swayed from the roof, and he ducked into aisle 47, “Hair Removal Products”. The men’s section, evidently by the amounts of grey and blue, was a mess of disposable razors, and shaving cream.

 He stared up and down, but all he could find were variations of essentially the same thing. What the hell was the difference between regular strength and extra strength shaving cream? Was it lifting weights? They had to be here around somewhere, or else Jongdae would be walking to the hardware aisle and buying a roll of duct tape to get the job done. Did guys just not wax?

 The florist rocked back and forth on his heels, scratching his head. Perhaps it was the wrong place to look.

 Jongdae sighed and began to walk circles around the Pharmaceutical section, searching for an attendant in a yellow vest, or at the very least, a map.

 As far as the eye could see, there was nobody. A few more minutes passed before he turned on his heel, all hope lost, and started towards the Home Improvement section.

 Jongdae skipped away from the racks of razors, and towards the east corner of the massive store, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. He saw the familiar flick of a dark ponytail across the Dairy cases, and he followed.

 The girl had a basket dangling from the crook of her elbow, and she reached for a block of orange cheese, whipping her face around at the last second.

 They made eye contact.

 “Jongdae?”

 “Hey, Irene.”

 She shifted her feet to the side and stood still politely, the ghost of a smile appearing on her face.

 “What?”

 “Aren’t you going to move?” she urged, stepping forwards.

 “Oh, sorry.”

 Irene marched down the Seafood section surprisingly briskly, and Jongdae almost thought she was purposefully trying to avoid him.

 “Irene.”

 She kept on going.

 “Irene!”

 The girl spun around.

 “What?”

 “I need some help.”

 “Yeah,” she agreed, “you do.”

 “No, I need your help.”

 She was so close to the checkout, and if she ran and made a valiant effort to not twist her ankle in her ankle boots, she could leave the store with a few minutes to spare.

 “Make it quick. I need to get somewhere tonight.”

 “Okay.” Instinctively, they had started walking towards the Personal Hygiene Aisle anyways, and Jongdae had decided it would be a good idea to explain his dilemma to Irene, who nodded and widened her eyes.

 “Really? He waxes? Did you ask him if he shaves?”

 “No. It’s like a reflective surface. You have to see it to believe it.”

 “I’ll bet,” she said, wondering what Jongdae was doing with Minseok’s legs. “Is this some sort of fetish?”

 The boy sputtered, and his cheeks grew warm.

 “Kidding,” she emphasized. He relaxed, and they stopped by the men’s section.

 “That’s it?” Irene said, eyes flickering over the meager variety.

 “That’s it.”

 She dropped her basket to the floor and searched around.

 “No cream, no wax, no lasers? No nothing?”

 “Nope. I checked up and down.” Jongdae threw his hands in the air and back down, slapping his thighs. “I was going to use duct tape.”

 “You’re just looking in the wrong place.”

 “I don’t know where else to look!”

 “Women’s section.”

 How didn’t Jongdae think of that before?!

 Irene’s cold fingers clenched around his wrist, and she pulled him into the women’s hair removal aisle forcefully, causing his whole body to go limp like a rag doll.

 “Shit,” Jongdae puffed out, struggling to regain his balance. The girl simply shook her head and brushed past him.

 “Here’s what you’re looking for.” She stood on her toes, kicking her basket to the side as she reached for a pack of waxing strips.

 “I suppose you’re enough of a man to use these,” Irene said dryly, leaning closer to show him the packaging.

 It was an eerily airbrushed picture of a smiling girl, with shiny brown legs and even shinier white teeth that held a pink daisy between her lips like some sort of outstretched fan. It made him feel uncomfortable as he pushed the box away, scratching the back of his neck.

 “Well,” she sighed, grabbing another item from the shelf, “what about this?” The box was cut down the corner; a slash between green and white.

 “Aloe vera,” Irene read out, turning the label over in her palm. “Good for the skin and good for the soul.”

 Jongdae wasn’t even paying attention, enamoured instead by the sheer variety of products in the aisle, compared to the corner of men’s razors and shaving cream. Even the women did it better. There were only so many kinds of shave foam that you could make, but he hadn’t even known that fruit flavours existed. He wanted it all; mango to coconut, green apple to raspberry, honey to milk.

 “There’s so many,” he said breathily, trailing his fingers over a tub of coconut wax beans.

 “Do you want these, or not?”

 He brought his eyes up to take in the enormous wall of pink packaging, a million varieties of dilapidation cream, razors, and waxing beans.

 “How do I choose?”

 Irene sighed and put her hands on her hips, rolling her eyes.

 “Do I get almond? Or shea butter? Berry sounds good too….” Jongdae pressed himself up against the display, inching closer to the glossy boxes.

 “It’s not a fucking gelateria. Just CHOOSE.”

 “Oh my, green tea?” He swiped the teal container from the shelf, shaking the contents lightly.

 “But there’s also chamomile….”

 Jongdae darted from one side to another, getting on all fours to search for the perfect product, unashamedly and unabashedly as Irene looked on, checking her watch momentarily. She was running a few minutes late.

 “Let’s go,” she said, tapping her foot on the white tile.

 “Just a sec,” the florist grunted, balancing his haul in the crook of his elbow. “I found some good ones.” He beamed at the unamused girl, rocking from side to side as he displayed each wax strip one by one.

 “Chocolate, pomegranate, and-” Jongdae eased the last carton from under his arm, where it was tightly clamped, “honey!”

 “You’re tragic.” Irene pushed her hair back from her face and snatched all three boxes, dumping it into the basket.

 They made their way to the front and she buzzed the items through the self-checkout, along with a block of cheddar cheese. They went into seperate bags, and she paid without any hesitation.

 “Here you go,” Irene said, holding up the plastic bag for Jongdae’s convenience. It was packed with the curly receipt and the three shiny containers that promised “smooth skin for weeks!”. The rain had stopped, leaving the trace of a fresh scent in the air. He pried it from her fingers gently and followed her out the exit.

 They paused together by the shopfront, as Irene dug out her car keys.

 “I’m really surprised that you would do something like this.” She tossed the cheese casually in the air.

 “Yeah,” Jongdae replied lamely, shuffling the bag from one arm to another when it started to dig into his hand.

 “I just-never expected you to be a waxing person.” The keychain jingled lightly as she pulled the lanyard from the zippered pocket.

 “About that-” the florist started, holding up a finger.

 “What?” She flicked down her thumb to press the car key.

 “I don’t actually know anything. Like-”

 “You’re kidding me.” Her forehead creased with lines and Irene’s body heaved with a sigh.

 “Idon’tactuallyknowhowtowaxmylegsiwashopingyoucouldteachmeactually-” Jongdae squeaked out.

 The girl simply stood still, covering her mouth like a stone figure.

 “Please don’t be mad,” Jongdae begged, kicking a pebble towards the open parking lot.

 “Tonight,” Irene said to herself. “I was supposed to relax, and unwind….”

 “I’ll search up a tutorial-”

 “Get in the car Jongdae, before I change my mind.”

🌟🌟🌟

 Irene’s place always felt warm, cozy and lively, a complete contrast from the organized mess of Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s penthouse.

 “You got the cheddar cheese,” Yeri said, making a face. “I told you to get the provolone!”

 “Hush,” Irene brought a finger to her lips, “it’s the same thing!”

 "No it’s not!” Joy shook her head, always quick to back up her best friend. “We need provolone for our meatball heroes!”

 “I’ll get it tomorrow,” Irene groaned, ditching the bag onto the kitchen table. “You two should be grateful.”

 “What’s Jongdae doing here?” Yeri bounced up and down in her bunny slippers. “It’s girls night, remember? Last time I checked, he wasn’t a girl!”

 “It’s the twenty-first century.” Joy rubbed her nose and turned on the TV to Netflix.

 “Mean Girls!”

 “We’re going to wax his legs,” the oldest replied, tightening her ponytail. She brushed the baby hairs out of the way. “Take a seat,” Irene said, jutting out her chin at Jongdae.

 He leaped onto the sofa, tucking and rolling into a cannonball. She joined him with a pair of scissors and the wax strips in her hand.

 “It smells like meatballs,” he murmured.

 “That’s our sandwiches in the oven.” Joy scooted over to make room for Irene and Yeri.

 “You need to strip,” Irene said, looking at him directly.

 “W-what?” Jongdae sunk down into the sofa, buried under a nest of decorative pillows and plushies. He made himself comfortable, with his head lolling forwards to give him neck rolls, and a formidable double chin.

 “Take off your pants,” Yeri said. The girls sat themselves in a circle around him.

 Kicking off his jeans, which proved to be a difficult task because they were so tight, he laid back down, the slightly cool air hitting his bare legs. The florist wanted to curl into a ball, and he felt strangely vulnerable as the three girls studied him, eyes flickering over his thin body in a judgemental way.

 “Shrimp boxers,” Joy and Yeri echoed at the same time. There was the rustle of a box; it was honey scented, and Irene chucked his pants on the floor, crossing her legs to sit closer.

 Jongdae’s face was burning, but his legs were freezing. It felt like he was in the operating room, he shut his eyes tight, gripping onto the cushions for support.

 “Relax,” Joy said soothingly. She patted his arm, and he opened his eyelids just a peek, to see Irene rubbing a strip between the palms of her hands. The girl handed it off the her little sister, who peeled the yellow wax apart.

 It was cold and slimy when it hit his skin, just above his knee. He felt a pair of slender fingers, gently pressing the strip.

 “Take a deep breath. You’re doing great.” Joy’s breath tickled his cheek, and Yeri rose up on her knees, firmly grasping the edge of the paper.

 “Three….”

 Jongdae swallowed hard.

 “Two….”

 He was a man. He was strong. Minseok could do it…..he could do it too.

 “One….”

 It came off with a loud **rrrrrip** , and his legs kicked out anyways, hitting Yeri clean off the couch as he howled in pain. She hit the floor with a bang, and her hair spread out in a fan on the back of her neck.

 “FUUUUUUUUUCK! HOLY SHIT!” His voice cracked.

 The pain was awful, and burned with a stinging intensity. Jongdae hissed between his teeth, blinking away tears.

 “Ow….” he croaked, and Irene pulled him up, smiling.

 “A spicy reaction,” Yeri said from the floor, holding in her laughter.

 “A spicy reaction indeed,” Joy replied, patting the choked-up boy on the back.

 “That fucking sucks…” Jongdae groaned. Thankfully, the initial fires of hell that had attacked his leg were beginning to diminish, but he was not looking forward to doing it again.

 “Women have a higher pain tolerance than men,” Irene handed him the other half of the strip, “so I’d suggest you’d do it yourself.”

 “I’ll do it with you!” Yeri pushed Joy out of the way, and sat facing him.

 “So you don’t kick me off the couch again.” She extended her legs, prickly with peach fuzz, and smoothed the strip in a downwards motion with the pad of her finger. Jongdae copied her movements as best he could.

 “Now,” Yeri held her thigh securely, “you pull the opposite direction. Like this.” It came off with the same loud **rrrrip** , and she blinked a few times, her neck growing blotchy.

 “Your turn.”

 Hesitantly, he peeled the lower end up, and ripped it off with all his strength. The red hot pain set off fireworks, before fizzling away. Jongdae hadn’t even realized he was crying until somebody handed him a tissue.

 “Getting better,” Irene nodded approvingly. She threw the box towards him, and it landed on his hoodie. Joy watched as the third, then the fourth strip came off his leg, pausing intermittently to hand him another Kleenex when the pain got to too much.

 It was difficult to watch Mean Girls with all the screaming, so they formed an assembly line instead. Yeri warmed the strips in between her hands, Joy dabbed at the tears, and Irene threw them out into a plastic wastebasket, folding them lengthwise and trying not to lose her appetite.

 Before long, the box was empty, and Jongdae’s legs seriously shone. Not like the sun, but like greasy hot dogs; red and hair-free.

 Joy handed him an aloe salve with green bubbles, and ushered him off to the washroom with another stack of wax.

 “Do your balls,” Yeri looked up from the TV screen. She sprawled out on her stomach and kicked her legs. “After you’re done, use the aloe vera. It helps with the redness.”

 Irene gave him his black skinny jeans, and tossed the pillows on the ground, diving into the makeshift pit.

 “And be gentle,” she called after him, “or else you’re going to rip off your left nut!”

 He heard a high-pitched giggle from the hallway as he shut the bathroom door behind him.

🍯🍯🍯

 Jongdae waxed efficiently and carefully, burying the strips in the garbage can after he was finished. It hurt to walk from all the chafing, so he applied the aloe generously until it was slick on his legs. The florist also made sure to take his time washing his hands with Irene’s fancy hand soap from Bath and Body Works. It was limited edition Peach Sparkle, and lathered like a dream.

 Joy, Irene, and Yeri were already laying in the living room, half-suffocated by an expanse of throws and plushies. The youngest girl looked up when he entered, tucking a meatball into her chin that jutted out like an unsightly tumor.

 He helped himself to a meatball sandwich; nobody seemed to mind. Jongdae even went as far to lick his fingers.

 Irene pushed the plates into the dishwasher once they had all finished eating. Mean Girls was already nearing the ending scene, and Jongdae wondered if he had overstayed his welcome.

  He reached for his plastic bag on the counter; Yeri and her sister were staring at the credits, and Joy was chopping something in the kitchen that smelled acidic.

  “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!” Jongdae felt a blunt whack on his hand and made eye contact with Joy.

 “I’m leaving. You’ve already taught me all I’ve needed to know.” He took a sarcastic bow. “Senseis’ of cold wax strips.”

 “Nuh-uh. Once you girls night in, you don’t girls night out.”

 “That’s a terrible-ass pun,” Yeri shouted over the ending music. “It doesn’t even flow well.”

 “You’re serious?”

 “One-hundred percent.” Irene dashed towards the door and blocked it anyways.

 “Can I go home?” Jongdae asked, bouncing his knee and almost whining.

 “No.”

 “Can I go home?”

 “No.”

 “Can I go home?”

 “Kim Jongdae, one of us is going to move first, and it sure as hell won’t be me.”

 Joy stepped in between the two of them, completely obscuring Irene with her tall frame. “I have a knife, and I’m not afraid to use it. So go sit down, and make yourself comfortable.”

 Sighing, Jongdae took a spot on the last cushion left on the sofa, and crossed his arms over his chest, blowing a lock of his hair from his face. Yeri rolled over and switched off the TV, leaping to her feet in a single move.

 “What do I do now?” he cried out, holding out his arms.

 Joy stopped with her chopping, setting down the blade on the cutting board and brushing her palms.

 “Sit tight, the night is still young…”

 “Can you stop speaking in your cryptic codes? What do you guys usually even do anyways?”

 Yeri excused herself, and returned from the washroom with a glittery gold pouch in hand. She waved her sister over, and they talked under their breath in hushed voices  before breaking apart.

 They both sat around Jongdae; Irene to the right, and Yeri to the left.

 “What’s going on?” His eyebrows perked up.

 “We’re going to give you a makeover!”

💄💄💄

 

1\. Hair

 They started simply, with Irene pumping a fluffy substance into her hand, and working it gently into Jongdae’s scalp. She pulled gently at the strands, and her thin, white fingers moved as softly as she could, combing and parting his hair.

 “You should try a different color.” Yeri piped up across from him, holding up the vanity mirror. She yawned softly.

 “I have. I’ve done brown, and blonde.”

 “You’re so vanilla, Jongdae.”

 He blew a raspberry at the high-schooler and she repeated the action right back.

 “Be more like Minseok. He’s done green, blue, purple, orange, and black, **blonde, and brown**.”

 “Believe me, I am trying to be more like Minseok.”

 “He’s too soft for his own good,” Irene said, drying her hands on a white towel.

 Jongdae wanted to defend his friend so bad, but he still failed to find how the girl was wrong.

 “I’m thinking of getting a purple dip-dye.” Yeri smiled wistfully. “What do you think?”

 “We could get our hair dyed together,” Irene mentioned, teasing the knots from Jongdae’s hair. “I’ll get pink, Wendy can have blue, Seulgi’s will be yellow-”

 “-And I’ll have green,” Joy shouted, dumping something into a bowl.

 “I’d like to see that,” Jongdae said, craning his neck to meet the direction of Irene’s tugs.

 

2\. Skin

 Joy brought the slightly wobbly dish to the coffee table, holding it precariously. At first glance, it looked like a fruit tray.

 A barely edible fruit tray.

 Slices of lemon, cucumbers, kiwis lined the platter, a weird combination from the start.

 “Do you ever shave?” Yeri asked, uncorking a jar of sugar scrub. “Your skin feels surprisingly smooth.”

 “It’s just the…..babyface.”

 Slowly, Yeri rubbed the scrub onto his face gently, swiping lines of the sweet-smelling sand across his forehead, chin, then nose bridge. She massaged his cheeks roughly, before handing him a damp washcloth.

 He wiped off the rest of the sugar and examined his reflection in the mirror. His skin was pink, and it glowed with a raw touch. The dark locks that Irene had meticulously styled, hung in a flat, feathery fringe. Jongdae felt fresh and pretty and revived.

 Joy grabbed a cucumber and brought her finger near his face. He ate it out of her hand.

 “What the hell?”

 “It’s a snack,” Jongdae munched.

 “It’s a skin treatment, and it goes on like this.” She peeled two more cucumber slices from the plate and draped them over her eyes. Then, she took little kiwi rounds and positioned them in a circle on her jaw.

 “Taa-daa.”

 Jongdae shook his head with bewilderment as Irene tossed her head back and followed. So did Yeri, who arranged hers with lemons, and they laid down every which way, almost like they were asleep.

 He ate the rest of the cucumbers in the tray, and the kiwis too, but steered clear of everything that looked like it had been touched by yellow.

 When the girls eventually did get up, peeling the fruit slices from their face, Joy handed out real face masks, the sheet kind that he saw at the Face Shop. They were translucent and thin, and smelled like a blueberry candy.

 He placed it gently, pressing the corners so it would stick better and absorb into his skin. Jongdae looked up to see three girls staring vacantly back at him, their white masks obscuring everything but their mouths and eyes.

 “Not gonna lie,” the florist said quickly, composing himself, “that’s some scary shit.”

 Yeri burst into a fit of giggles. “We look like a cult.”

 Irene rolled her eyes, but opened the Photos app on her phone anyways.

 “Gather around, girls….and boy….” she added. They crowded around the camera, which Joy gladly took because she had the longest arms. Yeri and Jongdae made finger hearts, while Irene threw up her deuces.

 “Say cheese…”

 The shutter snapped with a satisfying click.

 

 3. A Full Face of Makeup

 He found himself sitting on the sofa, just a few minutes later, Wendy grasping his left hand while Seulgi worked on his right.

 “Nail file,” Wendy ordered, and Yeri pressed it into her hand. “Thank you.”

 “My nose is itchy,” Jongdae complained. Seulgi pulled his wrist back down and pumped the nail brush into the bottle, dragging a clear coat of the polish onto his nails.

 “Girls night?” she asked. “You didn’t invite us, for Jongdae?”

 Irene stared at the ground. “Technically, Yeri did call you in the end.”

 “My nose is really really itchy!” the boy said, clearly irked. Joy reached across and scratched it for him.

 “Thank you!”

 Wendy capped the bottle and screwed on the black plastic top. “They’ll dry in about fifteen minutes. Just try to sit still while we do your makeup.”

 “I don’t need you to show me-I already do it myself.” Jongdae blew on his nails waving his hands around.

 “We’ll make you look better. We’ll make you look so good, you’ll stare at your own reflection at the end of the night and think, man, I want to fuck that boy.”

 Seulgi grinned and pointed at Irene. “Would you get in bed with Jongdae?”

 “I’m a lesbian.”

 “We’ll make you look so damn good, it’ll turn Irene straight!” She clapped her hands to order and reached into the glittery bag, fishing out a packet of makeup remover wipes.

 “For the record,” Irene said, “I wouldn’t consider jumping on the bed with him, let alone rolling in the sheets. Sorry bud.”

 Seulgi swiped the cool, wet fabric over his jawline and across his skin, taking off the rest of his BB cream with it. She dabbed on a thin coat of primer, and Wendy soaked a dense sponge into a puddle of foundation.

 “Perfect.” She stuck out her tongue and Jongdae closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of almost being pampered in this way. Wendy covered his face in one coat, then two, pausing to toss her ombre colored hair over her shoulder. Then, Joy went back in with the concealer to cover up any missed spots.

 “Looks flawless.” There was nothing sweeter than female approval.

 Yeri found the powder cushion at the bottom of the bag, and patted it, sending a cloud of the smoke into the air. It went onto the florist’s face, followed by a touch of bronzer from Irene.

 They sat back to admire their work, while Seulgi sharpened the eyebrow pencil, brushing the shavings aside. She tucked her legs in and moved to trace the outline of Jongdae’s stick-straight brows.

 Joy gasped. The eyebrows really did make the look, and his were dark and alluring, accentuating the softness of his shiny eyes.

 Skipping the eyeshadow, Wendy went straight to the eyeliner, a narrow, liquid brush that bled black kohl.

 “I know how to do my eyeliner,” Jongdae said softly.

 “You always do it too thin, or unevenly,” Yeri pointed out.

 “Shit,” Wendy cursed, wiping the tip of the brush on the paper towel. The black line was tapered at the end, creating a messy black blotch.

 “Let me try.” Joy wrest the pen away and drew the line again on the other eyelid. They leaned closer to inspect the handicraft, and shook their heads with disfavour.

 Seulgi gave the eyeliner a try as well, making a few shaky streaks before she gave up altogether and wiped Jongdae’s eyelids clean.

 “I can’t get right,” she said with impatience, making the fourth attempt-and rubbing it away with a wipe.

 “Those are expensive!” Yeri cried, alarmed at the pile that had formed beside her. “They’re special mineral-enriched…”

 “Well, fuck.” Seulgi said. “We might as well give up if we can’t get the goddamn eyeliner to work.” She tossed a dirtied wipe on the ground, angrily. “Screw this.”

 Irene tapped the screen of her phone, before holding it up to her ear.

 “What are you doing?”

 “I’m calling Minseok.”

 “You have his number?” Jongdae’s eyes fluttered open excitedly. “Wait, why are you calling him?”

 “He did his eyeliner damn well that time we went out clubbing.” She waited for a few more seconds, hung up, and dialed again. There was a beep, then a click.

 “Hello?” Irene said into the phone. “It’s Irene. Okay, yeah.”

 There was some inaudible shouting on the other end.

 “Can I put you on speaker?” Irene placed the phone, facedown on the coffee table, and they gathered around like the oracle.

 There was a deep cackle, then a whisper, and the bang of metal.

 “Hey.” Minseok’s voice was shaky and flustered, but Jongdae recognized it right away.  
Another booming laugh, followed by the sharp sound of scratched glass that made everyone in the room wince.

 “God, what the hell?!” Wendy jumped back, shivering,

 “Yeah, sorry about that. I’m at this KBBQ restaurant with Lu-uh….Luhan.”

 “Oh, if you two are on a date, I really shouldn’t have interrupted-”

 “No, no. He just works here...it’s really no problem. We’re having dinner, that’s all.”

 “Okay.”

 “So, what do you need help with?”

 “We’re giving Jongdae a makeover, and we can’t get the eyeliner right.”

 “A dire situation indeed,” Jongdae imagined Minseok licking his lips, “send me a picture after you’re done.”

 Everyone turned to look at Jongdae suggestively.

 “So, I guess you remove the cap…”

 “Mhm….” Irene did as instructed.

 “Now you draw the thin outline….”

 “Got it.”

“After that, you make a little loop-”

 “DADDY! HARDER!”

 Irene’s eyebrows shot up.

 “YES, RIGHT THERE, HARDER, FASTER!”

 “What the fuck? There are children under 18, on the premises, Minseok!”

 “I-I’m so sorry, Irene! Shut up, Lu!”

 “Oh, make me…..alpha.”

 “Seriously, Luhan, I swear to god…..I’m not kidding. I’ll cut your balls off with these meat scissors, right here.”

 “Chill, Seok,” the Chinese sputtered.

 “Minseok, you’re still there?”

 “Yeah, I’m really, so so sorry. Did you draw the loop?”

 “Yes.”

 “Okay, now fill that in.”

 Another screechy sound rang out.

 “Did you fill it in?”

 “Yeah.”

 “Now make the crease part thicker, and do the bottom.” Irene went slowly, and hesitantly, dragging the brush across Jongdae’s eyelids. Then, she leaned back to see what she had done.

 Exactly as she imagined, it was sharp, and symmetrical. It really did make his eyes pop.

 “Thanks, Minseok. You can get back to enjoying the rest of your dinner here,” she whispered into the phone. “I’ll text you a photo after we’re done.”

 “You’re welcome. And say hi to Jongdae for me.”

 “FUCK ME, DADDY!”

 Joy flinched.

 “Shut up, Luhan, or else your dick won’t see the everloving light of day.”

 Irene hung up promptly, frowning. Meanwhile, Joy demanded he close his eyes, and gave him a light dusting of blush with the fan brush.

 “You’re blushing….” Yeri said.

 “I think that’s just the-”

 “You were blushing when Minseok was on the phone.”

 “She’s right.” Seulgi burnished on some highlighter, and licked her finger.

 “Well, you know. Just some friendly bromance.”

 “Just some friendly bromance,” Wendy parroted, shaking the lip gloss in her hand. She looked unconvinced.

 Jongdae wasn’t even sure what to feel about Minseok. They were friends, he supposed, but Chanyeol, Baekhyun, and Junmyeon were also his friends, and it felt completely different with them. He didn’t think he had a crush; he called him sexy once or twice, but Jongdae almost wanted to be there to protect Minseok from the awful world. He wanted to almost make him be his partner in crime.

 Minseok was cute, and funny. Maybe, even attractive, not like Jongdae’s ego was too fragile to admit it. He had the softest cheeks, the prettiest eyes, and the best smile. But friends could notice these things about each other, right?

 The gloss felt heavy and cold on his mouth.

 What did Minseok think of him? He posed robotically, and let somebody snap a quick picture.

 Irene airdropped it to his phone.

 “You’re all set,” Joy declared, spraying the makeup setter all over his face.

 “Stop that!” Yeri wailed. “It’s a worse pun than before!”

 Wendy showed him the photo of himself, and his jaw dropped.

 “Holy shit, t-that’s me?” Jongdae’s hands instinctively went towards his face, but Seulgi swatted them away.

 “Would you fuck that boy?” she asked, seriously.

 Irene stuck out her tongue and wrinkled her nose at the same time that Jongdae nodded his head.

 “We’re done, then.” Yeri’s shoulders heaved, and she tossed the brush into the bag carelessly, spattering powder everywhere.

💅💅💅

 He trudged his feet back to his apartment, and let out an elongated sigh when he got there. Rifling through the bag, he found a sachet of makeup wipes, which he tore open and scrubbed down his face with.

 Too tired to produce any coherent thoughts, Jongdae rolled into bed, and let the overwhelming air of exhaustion claim him.

💤💤💤

 “So, guess what?”

 Minseok raised his eyebrows, and used the bridge of his nose to nudge up his fallen sleeve. It was brown from rolling in a dust of cocoa powder, and his fingertips were red from burns sustained from hot chocolate.

 “Marshmallow,” he crooned out, squishing the white confections between his thumb and pointer finger.

 “Will you stop getting distracted by those candies and listen to me?”

 “Jealous of a marshmallow, Jongdae?” Minseok laughed, and poured a handful into the steaming brown liquid.

 “No. And stop singing.”

 “Marshmallow,” the barista sang under his breath, staring longingly at the cup he held between his hands.

 “STOP.”

 “Why? Because it’s annoying?”

 “Because it’s cute,” Jongdae admitted, biting his lip.

 “Well, thanks.” Minseok shifted his feet, grinning over his shoulder. “What did you want to show me?”

 “Remember your legs?”

 “How could I forget?” The blonde looked down to make sure his legs were there; they definitely were.

 “They’ve been running through my mind all day and all night.”

 “I don’t get it.”

 “Let’s say,” Jongdae’s fingers curled under the hem of his pants, “I was a little more than inspired.” In one movement, the sweatpants dropped to the ground, and Minseok gasped.

 “Calm down! I’m still wearing shorts underneath!” The dark-haired boy turned around, and wiggled his ass slightly, giving his friend quite the show.

 The older simply covered his mouth; to prevent himself from laughing uncontrollably, and his eyes; to deflect the secondhand embarrassment. And of course, Jongdae would come during the morning, in stark daylight, to flash every. single. patron.

 “Was this just a ploy to get me to check out your ass?” The barista leaned against the counter, glad that Irene wasn’t working a shift today, or else this would never fly by.

 “Maybe…” Jongdae smiled slyly, and pointed his toes to flex the muscles in his impossibly shiny leg.

 “Damn. Somebody had a glowup.”

 “The girls helped me.”

 “I can see why. It would’ve been a disaster.”

 “Dare I say my legs are better than yours?”

 “I wouldn’t count on it.” Minseok rolled his eyes, and let a smile surface.

 “Why not? Mine are sleeker, and longer!”

 “We’re the same height.”

 “I’m a centimeter taller than you!”

 “Same height.”

 “I’m taller!”

 “This is like that Mamamoo song….”

 “Stop trying to change the subject! You’re just jealous of me!” Jongdae cried out, losing his balance in the process.

 “Smooth, Jongdae. Very smooth.” Minseok winked, and took a sip of the hot chocolate, making sure to take a lick of the puffy cloud of molten marshmallows.

 “What? My legs, or my amazing pickup line skills?”

 “Both. Both…”


	15. Chanbaek's Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol and Baekhyun want to raise a kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapter titles are getting progressively worse.

 “I’ve been thinking about raising a child.”

 “I’m going to stop you right there.”

 “I’m not joking!” Baekhyun sputtered, clutching his heart. “Tell them for me, Chanyeol!”

 “We’re not joking.”

 “Good lord.” Jongdae tore open another packet of Junmyeon’s disgusting digestive biscuits and threw them directly on the dining table.

 They were the only snack left in Junmyeon’s exceedingly sparse pantry; the boys were here for their weekly “meeting”, and it was hard to believe that they had surpassed rock bottom after last week’s popcorn.

 “In fact,” Baekhyun cleared his throat, and reached for one of the bland cookies, “we’ve planned out every aspect. We’re going to have a daughter. She’s going to be half-black, half-white.”

 “A daughter. You're not really allowed to choose the race. It’s not a mix and match thing.” Junmyeon raised his eyebrows and licked his lips free of crumbs.

 “Hate to break it to you,” Jongdae stretched out his arms out, “but you’re both Asian. Asian males. Not to mention you’re going to kill that child.”

 “Am not!”

 “You can’t even dress yourself! How are you going to provide for a family?!” Junmyeon ran his fingers through his dark brown hair; a habit he had picked up from Yixing, who had picked it up from Minseok.

 “I can!”

 “You still wear sandals with socks!”

 “Your dumb boyfriend wears sandals with socks!” Chanyeol fired back, taking a jab at Yixing.

 “That’s different! They’re slides, not dollar store flip-flops.”

 “And of course, Yixing’s different. Because he’s special.” Baekhyun rolled his eyes, and somehow managed to eat a biscuit angrily.

 “Back off!” Junmyeon crossed his arms and sulked. “He is special. And he makes me happy. There’s nothing wrong with that.”  
Jongdae tried to imagine Yixing and Junmyeon living in a seaside house with a nuclear family, raising two children.

 Jongdae also tried to imagine Baekhyun and Chanyeol living in a seaside house with a nuclear family, raising two children. Then, he tried to imagine himself picking up the phone and dialing Social Services.

 “I have a picture of our future successor right here.” Baekhyun tapped his phone, and showed them an image of the Byun-Park daughter.

 “It’s a cat.”

 “Well, yeah.” Chanyeol looked dumbly over at Junmyeon and Jongdae. “What were you expecting?”

 “A human girl.”

 “Oh hell no! Kids are disgusting!” Baekhyun recoiled, and shoved his phone back into his pocket.

 “But our Nala, she’s going to be an absolute angel,” Chanyeol said dreamily, and made eye contact with his boyfriend.

 “Nala?”

 “From the Lion King.” The pink haired giant yawned. “We flipped a coin for names.”

 “I wanted Pusheen,” Baekhyun said. “We’re picking her up tonight. Do you guys want to come? We need a godfather.”

 “Sorry guys.” Junmyeon shifted in his seat. “I have a date.”

 Chanyeol looked scandalized. “Don’t you think you’re taking it a bit fast?”

 Baekhyun cleared his throat. “Right. Myeon came back once saying he hooked up, now he’s going on a date, next thing you know he has a boyfriend, then a fiance-”

 “And Yixing knocks him up and they have a kid,” Chanyeol finished.

 “This isn’t one of your m-preg fanfics, Yeol,” Junmyeon chided. “I haven’t done this in a long time, and he makes me happy.” A gooey smile spread over the landlord’s features, and Baekhyun mime gagged.

 “I’ll come.” Jongdae said, chewing through the sugary brown mush in his mouth.

 “Great. I’ll pick you up at six.” Baekhyun replied. “And wear something nice, like a suit or whatever.”

 “Why?” The florist scrunched up his nose.

 “First impressions matter.”

🐈🐈🐈

YeollieOllie ʕ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°ʔ - still on for tonight?

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - yeah ofc  
why

YeollieOllie ʕ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°ʔ - we’re outside rn

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - k  
i still need to change

YeollieOllie ʕ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°ʔ - no problem  
see you later

 

 Jongdae practically leaped from his spot on the couch, running a hand through his dark hair that was still slightly damp from his prior shower. He shrugged himself into a white shirt and his softest grey hoodie after dabbing on a quick coat of BB cream(bareface, why not?),

 He heard the honk of a car downstairs as he was putting on his shoes.

 The boy raced down the hallway and jumped down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the treacherous elevator to creep it’s way up the individual floors. Jongdae burst into the lobby and threw open the doors, shivering when the cold, dry air hit his skin.

 Baekhyun waved at him from the tinted glass, and the florist scrambled into the passenger seat, climbing over the trash strewn across the bottom of the car.

 “It’s disgusting in here.” Jongdae kicked at an empty Starbucks cup, buckling his seatbelt. Despite the filthiness, he was pleasantly surprised by the nice smell of the vehicle. A Little Tree dangled from the rearview mirror, and Baekhyun stepped on the gas, turning onto the intersection.

 “The cups are Yeol’s. I don’t drink Starbucks.”

 “And I keep on telling you,” Chanyeol shouted from the back seat, “that you’re missing out!”

 “I’m not drinking your pumpkin spice latte! Pumpkin and coffee don’t go together.”

 “But birthday cake and coffee do…” Jongdae said under his breath.

 “What did you say?”

 “Nothing.” The charcoal-haired boy buckled his seatbelt.

 “I’m just so excited to meet our daughter!” Chanyeol balled his hands up into fists, and smacked the window.

 “I swear, that cat is so fucked no matter what.”

 “Don’t underestimate our parenting skills.” Baekhyun cranked up the air conditioning at the red light.

 “This might be the scariest part of my Halloween. My two stupidest friends are being entrusted with a living thing.” Jongdae blew a lock of hair from his forehead and leaned into the car seat.

 “Oh, please. You’re acting like you don’t play around in the dirt with grass all day.”

 “At least my plants survive!”

 “I’m trying so hard to be offended,” Chanyeol added.

 “We’re doing our best.” Baekhyun jerked the car into the parking lot of the animal shelter, a squat building with a lavender trim, and purple paw prints. “We have food, water, and the best toys. Nala’s going to be spoiled. Yeollie and I practically broke the bank for her.”

 He paused, and gave his friend a once over.

 “And I told you to wear something fancy!”

 Chanyeol thumped the window again, causing the whole car to shake. Unfazed, Baekhyun expertly guided the vehicle into a narrow parking space, and pulled the keys from the ignition.

 “This is the fanciest thing I own,” Jongdae retorted, slamming the car door as he got out.

 They walked through the square lot and towards the entrance eagerly, and Chanyeol practically yanked off the door handle in his excitement fueled craze.  
“Push, not pull.” Baekhyun corrected, shoving his boyfriend aside. A flood of gross smelling animal fumes washed over them as they stepped inside the animal shelter.

 To the right, a woman sat under a wall of animal themed cutouts, obscured by a towering desk. To the left, were rows and rows of kennels, packed with dogs and cats that stared longingly into the distance.

 “Where’s my daughter?!” Chanyeol shrieked, marching towards the front desk.

 “Ah, yes.” The receptionist craned her neck to look at the computer monitor. She licked her fingers and reached for a stack of paperwork. “You two must be Baekhyun. And Chanyeol. Of course.”

 She rolled backwards in her chair, and smiled. Jongdae thought she looked awfully familiar-

 “Seohyun?”

 “The one and only.”

 “Seohyun, the bartender?”

 Baekhyun’s face was blank. “Do I know her?”

 “She was there the night you guys got drunk, and naked.”

 “Don’t act so surprised,” Seohyun said, handing Chanyeol a pen. “This is my day job. And as you know, I’m a bartender by night.”

 “Sign on the dotted line,” she said to the pink-haired boy, who scribbled a messy signature and shoved the pen into Baekhyun’s outstretched hand.

 “I’ll take you to your lovely new pet.” Seohyun reached behind her and grabbed the keys off the wall. “She’s a tuxedo cat, healthy, female, usually calm and passive. You’ll need to take her to get her shots, and if you want, you can get her spayed.” The receptionist rattled off a list of facts until they had stopped in the middle of the kennel hall.

 The inescapable sound of dogs barking, and cats purring filled the air with unease, and Jongdae leaped from side to side, avoiding the batting paws and glass bead eyes that stared back at him.

 “She’s right here.” Seohyun kicked open the kennel door, and it gave in with a rattle of the chains.

 “Nala!” Chanyeol dropped to his knees, and scooped up a fluffy looking cat, equal parts black and white into his arms.

 “Did you miss us?” Baekhyun cooed, nuzzling his face into Nala’s collar. She simply meowed, and licked her nose.

 The two boys laughed and giggled, while Seohyun stood with a wistful smile on her face, key still jammed in the padlock of the door. Jongdae wouldn’t have guessed that his two crackhead friends would have become so easily wrecked by a cat, of all things.

 “Let’s go home,” Chanyeol whispered, cradling Nala gently in his big hands. “We have a bed, and water-”

 “And the best food. It’s grain-free, and good for the urinary tract. The TV ad even said so.” Baekhyun smiled softly, and kissed the cat on the top of the head, who purred loudly in response.

 “Who trusted these two?” Seohyun asked, brushing past Jongdae to slam the kennel closed.  
The group returned to the front hall, and she filed the adoption files, while the florist stared awkwardly at Chanyeol and Baekhyun, who were doting over their newest addition to the Byun-Park family.

 “Thanks for adopting. Have a great day.”

 As soon as they got back to the car, Chanyeol clambered in the back, as gently as he could to not disturb his weary-looking daughter. Nala had curled up in his arms, grasping at his elbow possible with her pink paws.

 “Don’t play your Taeyeon radio. I think she’s sleeping,” he warned his boyfriend.

 “No need to worry.” One hand turned the steering wheel, the other thumped his chest. “I’m a good dad.”

 “Who said you were the dad?” Chanyeol hissed.

 “I did.”

 “Then what am I?” His boyfriend asked accusingly.

 “You’re some other form of male parent. Like papa, or pops, or father.”

 “Ew.” Chanyeol wrinkled his nose. “You be dad, I’ll be Nala’s daddy.”

 “Channie!” Baekhyun whined, and bounced his knee up and down. “But I’m the only one who’s allowed to call you daddy!”

 "FINE BAEK! I'll be pappy, or something."

 "Thank you."

 Jongdae gaped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you guys all watch XIUMIN's "You"? 
> 
> Wow. 
> 
> I had no idea that Xiumin's vocal was that strong! Did you hear the vibrato? And the high note-ish?
> 
> SM really needs to showcase his vocals more. And his rap. And his dance. His everything, goddammit. 
> 
> SM? WTF? Too bad we'll have to wait two more years.


	16. Sailor Mars and a Bunch of Little, Stupid Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Halloween.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stream EXID's Me & You! 
> 
> What a great song. 
> 
> Also I suck at remembering how to update(hehe I don't know what I'm doing help)!

_17:19, Oct 30_

Minseok

Happy early halloween

baechu 💗

yeah you too  
working tomorrow?

Sadly  
And you

ill see  
yeri wants me to take her trick or treating

Ok

have any plans  
you’re welcome to join us

Thanks  
Im just going to decorate the cafe and hand out candy

im serious  
we need a sailor uranus

Nobody wanted to be sailor uranus?

yeah

Cause they didn’t want to become the butt of the joke  
or should i say anus

🖕🖕🖕

Hehehe

ill stop by later that night  
don’t get jumped

huh?

* * *

 

_20:56, Oct 30_

_**Chanbaek and the Third Wheel** _

 

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - i found it  
i found the perfect costume to wear online

Baekhyun_and_Eggs 🥓🥓🥓 - send a pic

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - like a nude?

YeollieOllie ʕ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°ʔ - of the costume

Baekhyun_and_Eggs 🥓🥓🥓 - send ∩ပɗ୧ऽ as well

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - gross

Baekhyun_and_Eggs 🥓🥓🥓 - worth a shot

YeollieOllie ʕ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°ʔ - did you buy it already?

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - oh yeah  
i sent the pic

YeollieOllie ʕ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°ʔ - you’re not wearing that

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - its a butterfly  
entirely appropriate

YeollieOllie ʕ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°ʔ - you look like a discount winx fairy

Baekhyun_and_Eggs 🥓🥓🥓 - you look like a dollar store victoria’s secret angel  
jongdae always has shit costumes

YeollieOllie ʕ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°ʔ - correct  
you were a vampire two years ago  
and that scooby dog a year ago

Baekhyun_and_Eggs 🥓🥓🥓 - your styling sense is fucking terrible

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - stfu  
im wearing this

YeollieOllie ʕ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°ʔ - the orange wings and black jumpsuit should be illegal

 

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 has left the chat

 

* * *

 

_21:02, Oct 30_

**_Redeu Belbet_ **

JumpwithJoy - help  
i forgot which costume im supposed to buy  
the store is closing in half an hour  
and i forgot  
plz help  
sos  
sos  
sos

YerianaGrande - i wrote this down somewhere  
okay irene is sailor mars  
seulgi is sailor venus  
wendy is sailor mercury  
im sailor saturn  
youre sailor jupiter

JumpwithJoy - got it  
thx

olaf ❄ - why is joy’s username  
jumpingwithjoy one moment  
and jump with joy the next

JumpingwithJoy - i use all my tenses  
this girl dont discriminate

Ohgoshnalliya 👌👌👌 - ???

baechu 💗 - don’t question it  
i plotted out the map for our trick or treating route  
we’re going to weave around the new neighbourhoods  
and if we have time we can go to the rich houses

Ohgoshnalliya 👌👌👌 - sounds good

baechu 💗 - i’m only taking yeri if more people show up

YerianaGrande - ill call my school friends

olaf ❄ - the guys from your culture technology club?

YerianaGrande - actually its  
neo culture technology  
NCT

baechu 💗 - no boys  
i hate man babies

* * *

 

_13:17, Oct 31_

_**Golden Groves Group Chat(GGGC)** _

YerianaGrande - come trick or treating with me  
come trick or treating with us  
guys please  
irene says i need more people to come  
and maybe she’ll consider chaperoning me

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - arent you a senior in high school  
why do you still need a chaperone

YerianaGrande - my sister doesnt trust me to go out with a bunch of boooooys

stanluna - well how many

YerianaGrande - they keep on adding more to our friend group without telling me  
so idek at this point  
21  
ish  
maybe  
i think

findamberschest2019 - holy shit  
forget suhoe  
yeri is a player

baechu 💗 - ahem  
i still think it was a better idea to go as strawberry shortcake characters  
junmyeon would make an excellent raspberry torte

olaf ❄ - he’d make a better sailor uranus

Suho - fyi my fave girl is cherry jam

LayZhang - i liked lime chiffon

Ohgoshnalliya 👌👌👌 - who dat

LayZhang - the green one  
before the reboot

stanluna - there was a green one?

LayZhang - lime deserved better

baechu 💗 - why did i not know about this  
joy couldve gone as the green one  
yeri = plum pudding  
wendy = blueberry muffin  
seulgi = orange blossom  
and id be strawberry shortcake ofc

findamberschest2019 - clever  
i have a sheet with holes for eyes

Suho - they take it really seriously every year  
last time they went as scooby doo characters  
seulgi was fred  
wendy was velma  
joy was shaggy  
irene was daphne  
yeri was the scooby snack

baechu 💗 - dare i say jongdae was scooby?

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - blocked and reported  
we dont talk about that

baechu 💗 - dont be like that

LayZhang - im still upset that you guys didnt know about my girl lime chiffon

Suho - im sorry baby  
ill make it up to you later

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - also blocking and reporting THAT

Ohgoshnalliya 👌👌👌 - a good whiff of couple cheese  
i thought you were single last time  
like three days ago

Suho - im a taken man  
and for good reason too

LayZhang - <3

YerianaGrande - awwwwww  
now whos going trick or treating with me  
i convinced baekhyun and chanyeol to come

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - hah  
they don’t even have costumes this year  
yeol wanted to save up money  
he couldn’t eat properly for a month after buying his iron man suit

stanluna - aw  
i feel bad  
im going as groot though

olaf❄ - thats pretty cool

stanluna - haha thanks

Suho - i think ill just have a nice halloween at home  
burn a few candles  
eat a pumpkin pie  
and maybe watch some horror movies

baechu 💗 - for the last time  
guys say it with me

olaf ❄ - coraline

YerianaGrande - is

Ohgoshnalliya 👌👌👌 - not

JumpingwithJoy - a

stanluna - horror

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - movie

Suho - have you seen it  
its pretty damn scary  
think i shit my pants  
actually i might just burn some candles and have a relaxing evening

LayZhang - i’ll come over and help you unwind  
;)

baechu 💗 - lets take the time to remind everybody my baby sister is still here

YerianaGrande - and jongdae?

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - idk  
i might be busy

YerianaGrande - please  
pretty please  
with a cherry on top

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - nah

YerianaGrande - i just need a few more people  
kim jongdae  
mr jongdae kim  
jongdae kim  
go trick or treating with me

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - not after last year

Ohgoshnalliya 👌👌👌 - still salty?

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - shut up

olaf ❄ - for real  
imagine jongdae as chibiusa  
his favourite color is pink

Ohgoshnalliya 👌👌👌 - yasssss

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - i already have a costume

baechu 💗 - oh my god  
dont tell me

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - i bought the amazon one

baechu 💗 - not that one

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - its that one

baechu 💗 - its fucking scary  
the monarch butterfly  
i told you no

YerianaGrande - are you coming or not

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - ill think about it

YerianaGrande - noted

JumpwithJoy - happy halloween guys

findamberschest2019 - happy halloween

baechu 💗 - happy halloween!

* * *

 

 

_Call Transcript (13:42, Oct 31)_

Minseok Kim - Boss?

Sunny Lee - I’m flattered. What’s up?

Minseok Kim - I can’t find the Halloween streamers.

Sunny Lee - Did you put up the jack o’lanterns yet?

Minseok Kim - I did.

Sunny Lee - They should be there.......I’m driving right now. Look, I’ll text you later.

* * *

 

_14:02, Oct 31_

Sunny(Soonkyu) 🌞

did you find it  
i left the decorations in the mop bucket  
under all the dish soap

Minseok

Yeah  
Hold on

it’s a bunch of orange and black  
tell irene to help you

 

Minseok changed his username to Minseok (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ !

 

She’s not working today

yeah?  
ok then

You should hire another employee

i’ll think about it

Okay i found it

alright  
remember to blow up the inflatables

I dont have a pump

borrow somebody’s hair dryer  
i did that last year  
i gtg  
see you tomorrow  
happy halloween

Yeah you too

* * *

 

_15:11, Oct 31_

Minseok (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ

Help me

baechu 💗

what

I need a hair dryer

why?

 

I’m trying to blow up casper the ghost  
Is that a yes?

no  
im sorry  
i just cant find it

  
ok no problem  
have fun trick or treating

* * *

 

_16:02, Oct 31_

LuHan鹿晗

hell no

Minseok (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ

Stupid chinese twink

i don’t own one 

* * *

 

_16:14, Oct 31_

Minseok (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ

Yixing  
Yixing  
Yixing  
Yixing  
Yixing  
tf?  
Are you there

LayZhang

wait

* * *

_16:18, Oct 31_

Minseok (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ

Yixing  
Its been 4 minutes  
Are you dead  
Should i call the cops  
I have 911 on speed dial

LayZhang has denied your request for a call

 

Minseok (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ

wtf?  
Do i have the wrong number?

LayZhang has denied your request for a call

LayZhang

stop calling me

 

What is your problem?  
Are you okay?

im busy rn

I bet you are

 

im at myeon’s place

oh 

* * *

_17:05, Oct 31_

(+1-303-555-0166)

Hello?  
do you happen to have a hair dryer?

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥  
who is this?

(+1-303-555-0166)

Minseok

baekhyun istg if it’s you trying to catfish me again  
our friendship is over  
you hear me?

(+1-303-555-0166)

No it’s just  
Minseok

oh really  
fuck off

* * *

_18:56, Oct 31_

baechu 💗

i found my hair dryer  
its kinda beat up  
still need it?

Minseok (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ

I texted jongdae with the number you gave me  
He told me to fuck off

what did you do?  
smh

Nothing!!!  
He mentioned something about baekhyun

ah  
his ex roommate  
the little bitch  
call him or something

* * *

 

_19:01, Oct 31_

  
**_Golden Groves Group Chat(GGGC)_ **

findamberschest2019 - you guys look amazing in your costumes  
i saw you guys walking down the street  
10/10

stanluna - ditto  
all we need is sailor moon

olaf ❄ - <3

findamberschest2019 - guess what  
i shouldve come with you guys  
guess what

Ohgoshnalliya 👌👌👌 - i’ll do you guys a favour and ask anyways  
what

findamberschest2019 - i opened my window  
for some fresh air right  
guess what i fucking hear next door  
loud ass moaning  
its been going on for two hours  
idk how to make it stop  
i should complain about it to junmyeon but i dont wanna get evicted so

baechu 💗 - typical  
typical

* * *

 

_Call Transcript (19:02, Oct 31)_

Minseok Kim - Hello? Is this Jongdae?

Jongdae Kim - No, it’s Irene. Yes, it’s fucking Jongdae. I’m tired of your bullshit, Baekhyun. Go and fuck Chanyeol or something. I’m trying to put on my Halloween costume. _*slamming sounds, and something being dropped on the floor*_

Minseok Kim - Um. Sorry, what?

Jongdae Kim - You heard me. I’m going to hang up now.

Minseok Kim - WAIT! It’s me, Minseok.

Jongdae Kim - …..Huh?

Minseok Kim - It’s Minseok. From the cafe. Your friend, remember?  
___

Hello? Are you still there?

Jongdae Kim - _*laughter*_ I thought you were never going to call me. You’ve had my number for at least a week now, and not even a text?

Minseok Kim - To be fair, you told me to fuck off.

Jongdae Kim - I’m sorry, okay? Why’d you call?

Minseok Kim - I need a favour.

Jongdae Kim - Of course.

Minseok Kim - Was that sarcastic, or not?

Jongdae Kim - Depends. I’d do most things for you.

Minseok Kim - Most? _*rustling sounds*_

Jongdae Kim - Don’t push it.

Minseok Kim - Does that include letting me borrow your hairdryer?

Jongdae Kim - Sure. I’ll run it down to you, once I get my Halloween costume on.

Minseok Kim - Thank you. You’re a lifesaver. Sunny wanted me to blow up these dumb inflatables, and I don’t know how I’d do it without you.

Jongdae Kim - Working on Halloween night? You’re no fun.

Minseok Kim - WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!

Jongdae Kim - Even Yixing’s getting dick, and you’re out there taping up paper bats and whatnot.

Minseok Kim - I tried, okay? I’m kinda in the Halloween spirit?

Jongdae Kim - Oh, Minseok. You’re a lost cause.

Minseok Kim - I’m hanging up on you.

* * *

 

_20:05, Oct 31_

 The first trick or treater who had rung the doorbell was dressed as Emperor Palpatine, and Minseok seriously considered holding back the candy when the teenage boy had the audacity to torment him with a bee pun.

 “You look like the bee’s knees,” Palpatine had said, winking. It wasn’t Minseok’s fault that he was dressed like a bee.

 _It’s fun and lighthearted_ , was what he thought, when he purchased it from the store. His back was aching, and the rounded black-yellow striped midsection made it nearly impossible for him to sit down without being swallowed whole.

 The headband dug into his head, and he pulled it off, smoothing down his flattened blonde hair. Minseok sighed, and sent the man off with a handful of Sour Skittles.

 “Thanks, Beeutiful.” Palpatine made a show of licking his lips, and disappeared down the block, much to the unamused bee’s relief. Minseok pushed the candy bucket to the side and laid down, enjoying some much needed rest.

 He got up, walked to the washroom to coat his cheeks in another layer of watermelon-colored blush, and answered the door again for two young girls, dressed in matching vampire costumes.

 “Happy Halloween,” they replied, smiling when Minseok dumped a handful of candy into their plastic pumpkin pails.

 The bee repeated the sequence over and over again; answering the door for the occasional trick-or treater, silently judging their costume, and offering the candy as generously as he could.

 Fifteen minutes had passed by the time Jongdae stepped through the entrance, a hair dryer wound tightly in his hand, and an expanse of orange sparkle fabric sticking out of a bag held in the crook of his elbow.

 Wordlessly, he pressed the hair dryer into Minseok’s hand, and the bee graciously took it to the broom closet, setting it beside a deflated Casper and a rather-floppy Frankenstein.

 “I believe,” Jongdae sat down in the nearest chair, throwing his bag beside him, “I deserve a reward for my efforts.”

 Minseok rolled his eyes, and begrudgingly showered him with candy, tossing it onto the table in fistfuls.

 “Happy Halloween, idiot.”

 Jongdae laughed-no, he giggled like a toddler as he unwrapped a Snickers, swallowing it in one bite. He peeled the black wrapper off a Mars bar, and ate that too.

 “Aren’t you going to join me?” he asked, mid-bite. Minseok shook his head and pointed to the bloated midsection of his bee costume.

 “I should take it off, I can barely move.”

 “Keep it on.” Jongdae swallowed with some difficulty, wiping a smear of chocolate from the back of his wrist. “It looks good. It looks cute.”

 “It looks cute.” Minseok kicked his feet up onto a stool, facing his friend.

 “It’s adorable and endearing and precious and everything, and you know it.”

 “Do you like it?”

 Jongdae didn’t reply. “You should see my costume.”

 “Oh yeah? I’m guessing, total colorful disaster.”

 The doorbell chimed, and Minseok leapt up mid-sentence, pawing a few KitKat’s into the open bag of a pirate. “Go change,” the bee urged, looking over his shoulder at Jongdae, and the growing pile of candy wrappers. “I want to see.”

 Shuffling upwards, the florist disappeared into the cafe washroom, dragging his canvas bag behind him.

 There was the soft clip of a swinging door, and Jongdae emerged from around the corner.

 Minseok dropped to his knees, laughing.

 “Hey!” Jongdae wailed, doing a full spin. The glittery orange wings smacked a hanging spider decal clean off the wall, and Minseok cackled even harder. The sight of his friend, decked out in four foot long wings and clad in gaudy black jumpsuit painted to look like a monarch butterfly was too much for him to handle, and tears pooled in the corners of his eyes.

 “Is it really so bad?”

 Minseok picked himself up from the floor, muffling his laugh in his sleeve. “No, it’s fine.”

 “Then why are you looking at me like that?”

 “I’m just jealous of your amazing costume.”

 “You’re a terrible liar, Minseok.” Jongdae pulled a headband, with two pieces of curly wire affixed to the top.

 “You look fine. It’s just so extravagant….I was a little shocked, is all.” Minseok grinned, and his fingertips brushed the back of Jongdae’s knuckles. “Here, let me help you with that.”

 Jongdae bent his head forwards, smiling shyly, and Minseok, as gently as he could, brushed the stray locks of black hair back from the butterfly’s face. Then, he wiggled the headband on, his hands lingering for barely more than a split second.

 “Am I interrupting something?”

 They both turned, startled, and jumped to the sound of a plastic staff being slammed on the ground. The plastic scepter bounced, signalling the arrival of Sailor Mars.

 Irene’s wig snaked down to her waist, and the purple bow on her chest jolted with each step that she took. She pulled her while gloves snug over her elbows, and smirked.

 “You could have at least given us a warning,” Jongdae complained nasally.

 “I stood outside, waiting for one of you two to open the door. But no…..you would rather stare into each other’s eyes than prevent me from freezing to death-”

 “We weren’t staring-” Minseok made eye contact with Jongdae from the side, and they both gave each other a wide-eyed look; a secret understanding.

 “Do you know how hard it is to keep warm in this tiny dress?” Irene gestured to her outfit, equal parts red and white; schoolgirl and scandalous.

 “I can imagine.” Minseok pursed his lips, and watched as Sailor Mars sat herself down, throwing the stray candy wrappers on the floor.

 “Yeri had a field day today. She filled up an entire garbage bag.”

 “An entire garbage bag?”

 “She robbed a few kids.” Irene reached into pockets, unwrapped a bruise-colored lollipop, and rolled in around in her mouth. It was blackberry-flavoured, and tasted like a sweeter version of the Starbucks purple drink.

 “Did you guys plan this?” Her tongue was violet.

 “Plan what?” Minseok asked innocently.

 “Your costumes.” Irene narrowed her eyes and threw her wig to the side in a sudden, unexpected movement. Jongdae dodged the lengthy bundle of hair, and the girl shook out her tight bun underneath, letting her hair fall into loose, dark strands.

 “Is this some sort of cheesy couple costume scheme?”

 “What do you mean?”

 “He’s a bee, and you’re a butterfly.” Irene crunched the rest of the candy between her teeth and tossed out the stick.

 “You both won’t stop bugging me, eh?”

 The two simply looked at each other, unimpressed by the pun.

 “Get it?”

 Jongdae made a face. “Please, never do that again.”

 Irene smiled apologetically. “Come on. I’ll take a photo of you two.”

 Closing the distance, Minseok leaned into Jongdae until his chin was nestled into the crook of the younger’s neck. Jongdae threw his hand up over his head, and Minseok followed, making the other half of the heart.

 “Smile,” Irene ordered, as she quickly snapped a picture. The two boys rushed over eagerly to take a look.

 “We look so good together!” Minseok said thoughtfully, and Jongdae grinned from ear to ear.

 “Send it to us,” he demanded.

 After a quick tap of her screen, Irene tried to slide the phone back into the waistband of her dress.

 “There’s no pockets on this,” she complained, patting the pleated layers of her costume. Jongdae ignored her, too focused on the photo.

 “Damn, I’m setting this as my background!”

 The bee flushed red in return, saved only by the fact that his cheeks were already covered in blush.

 “I feel like I’m being third wheeled,” the Sailor grumbled. Jongdae proudly displayed his new lock screen to Minseok. The photo was almost sickly sweet, and stank of cuteness, especially since Minseok looked almost younger than Yeri.

 “I’m going home now,” Irene mumbled.

 “It’s only eight,” Minseok protested.

 “I need my beauty rest.” It was difficult to tell when she was being serious.

 Irene picked herself up anyways, grabbing her staff and the wig bundle from the floor. She poked her head out and shivered, before stepping out into the street. The door closed with a satisfying smack.

 “Happy Halloween, Jongdae,” Minseok said, after the girl had disappeared down the street.

 “Happy Halloween.”


	17. What's a Friend Date Called?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeri "snakes" Jongdae, and he ends up at the movies with Minseok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R.I.P. PRISTIN....
> 
> On a side note, it's really exciting to see the return of Shrek and Toy Story this year! Even for these old-ass franchises, hope is not lost. 
> 
> Hopefully, a miracle comes to save f(x). I can't bear to see them disband without another song.

 She looked over his shoulder, catching wind of Irene’s Instagram posts.

 “That’s not fair,” Yeri whispered quietly. “I can’t believe you and stupid Minseok got more likes than the Inner Sailor Senshi. And look! Someone even remembered you two from your Troublemaker dance cover!”

 “Isn’t it so cute? The costume, I mean.” Jongdae sighed, crossing his legs on the bus bench.

 “Sure.” She sat down beside him.

 “I’m so bored. I have nothing to do today. I don’t even have a single assignment-”

 “Can I have that?” Yeri asked. Jongdae handed over his phone, and went straight back to complaining.

 “It’s Friday, which means it’s Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s date night, and Myeon is a lost cause.” His shoulder blades smacked against the bench. “Nobody’s going clubbing with  me.”

 “Clubbing? Just go by yourself.” Yeri busied herself with the touchpad, typing rapidly. She adjusted her purse so it was held between her legs, obscuring the screen.

 “Are you serious? I’m not looking to get roofied.”

 “Ah, Jongdae. You need to get out more. When was the last time you went out?”

 “September.”

 “Oh, I remember that!” Yeri smiled brightly, waiting for the messaging app to open. “That was the night you called Minseok sexy.”

 “W-what?” Jongdae sputtered, making a choking sound. “You weren’t even there!” His eyes turned into menacing slits. “Nobody was! How’d you find out?!”

 “And give that back! What are you doing?”

 “I’m finding you something to do. It’s only three pm.”

 “Hey!” Jongdae was quick, but Yeri was quicker. She snatched the phone away at the last second, holding it above her head; and sending Jongdae tumbling forwards, crushing her lap.

 “STOP THAT!” The boy whined and scrambled over her, grasping for her arm to no avail. Yeri winced; she hadn’t expected for Jongdae’s limbs to be so angular, and they dug into her shoulders and elbows.

 “What did you do?!” The phone crashed into the ground, bouncing off the bench. Jongdae fell to his knees and picked it up from the sidewalk, brushing off the little pebbles crusted on his pants.

 “Yeri,” he growled.

 “I’m just looking out for you,” she replied. “And why is your background Minseok? That’s kinda creepy…”

 “Why did you text him?!” Jongdae seethed and held out the phone, a sunny yellow colour-and slightly scratched from the altercation.

 “I did you a favour. You’re going out with Minseok later tonight, and you should thank me.” Yeri tossed her hair behind her shoulder, and rolled her eyes. “You’re acting like it’s the end of the world.”

 “Yes, because how the hell am I-”

 “Don’t tell me you want to cancel your date.”

 “It’s not a date-” Jongdae tugged at his own hair nervously, gritting his teeth. “You know what? I’m done-”

 He walked briskly towards the apartment, unpleasantly dragging his feet through a pile of pebbles. Yeri ran up beside him on the sidewalk, hovering around him like a fruit fly.

 “You’re going to the movies,” she said quickly, when Jongdae tried to sprint away. “And be there at seven. And he’s coming to pick you up. And bring me some popcorn, if you have any extra. Chicago mix, two parts cheese and one part caramel."

 Jongdae made a point of slamming the door in her face. 

🎥🎥🎥

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥hello  
its jongdae  
hehe  
are you free tonight

Minseok (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ

Yeah why

i was wondering if you wanted to go somewhere with me

 

* * *

 Jongdae scrolled through the messages, cringing. He was sitting on sofa, rewatching his favourite K-Drama, when it finally popped in his mind that he should check Yeri’s texts, as a sort of damage control. He didn’t know what he had in mind, but it was thoroughly uncomfortable.

* * *

A date?  
You still want to hang out?  
That’s fine with me  
Where do you want to go

the movies

Really?  
Does 5 sound good to you?

sure….  
actually can you come pick me up

  
Sure  
I still have your hair dryer from yesterday  
I’ll return that

okay  
see you in a few hours

* * *

 

 

 So, he was going. No doubt about it. Not like he’d turn down a date with his now-only friend. Chanyeol and Baekhyun probably loved their cat more than Jongdae at this point.

  _Is it a date? What do you call an outing with a friend? An appointment? A meeting? An excursion?_

 He threw open his wardrobe and pulled on a white shirt, then a yellow button-down, which he left opened. Jongdae made sure to apply his foundation the way Seulgi had showed him, and gently dabbed eyeshadow down the creases of his eyelids.

* * *

 

Minseok (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ

Im downstairs if you want to come down right now

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥

just a sec

Please dont be late

if im going to go out i better look damn good

Ok  
im waiting

 

 Minseok squirmed in his cart seat impatiently as he waited in the apartment parking lot. His stomach was feeling a bit fluttery and nervous today, but he ignored it, tapping his fingers on the radio.

 He could already tell it was going to be a good day. Firstly, he was going to the movies! With Jongdae! And second of all, the radio was playing Kill This Love, which was a total bop.

 “Let’s kill this love,” Minseok hummed under his breath, “-brrram bah bah bah bah!”

 “LET’S KILL THIS LOVE!” someone suddenly screamed behind him.

 Minseok would have been lying if he said he was only a little scared. His head smashed against the roof of the car as he jumped up, startled by the sudden noise.

 Jongdae rapped his knuckles on the car window sheepishly, waving at him from outside. Minseok groaned, rubbing his head, and rolled down the window.

 “Surprise!”

 “Did you really have to scare me like that?”

 “I like to make an entrance,” Jongdae replied, prying open the car door. “We’re twinning!” he said excitedly, pointing to himself, then Minseok; who was wearing a hoodie in a similar shade of yellow.

 Minseok shoved the keys into the ignition, and the car rolled onto the street.

 “Have you decided what we’re watching?” Jongdae asked, playing around with the buttons on his armrest. So far, he had discovered the green one was for windows, the red one was for heat, and the blue one-

 “Don’t touch that!” Minseok reached across, slapping away his friend’s hand. The vehicle swerved slightly, and they both let out a small scream as he struggled to maintain control in his lane of traffic.

 “Jongdae, you’re a safety hazard!” Minseok panted, once the steering wheel was gripped tightly in his clutch.

 His friend looked thoroughly shaken, his knuckles white on his seatbelt, and his back glued to the seat. His eyes were closed tightly in impending doom, and Minseok felt the sudden urge to squish his cheeks.

 “You can open your eyes now. We’re not going to crash and die.” Jongdae opened one eye first, then another, followed by a succession of rapid blinking.

 “You almost gave me a heart attack!” he whined loudly, sticking out his lower lip. “I don’t want to die just yet! There’s so many things I have to do!”

 “Well now we’re even,” was the only thing Minseok replied, adjusting the visor to block out the afternoon sun.

 “You still haven’t answered my question from earlier,” Jongdae said, crossing his arms.

 “I haven’t gotten the tickets yet. I don’t know what you like to watch. I was thinking, horror?”

 “No thanks. I don’t want to scar myself for centuries.”

 “Superheroes?”

 “Nah. Too much fighting. You see, why can’t we all just get along like a big family?”

 “Please don’t tell me you like rom-coms better than fantasy.”

 “Honestly, I’m not a fan of both.”

 “Then tell me what you like!” Minseok yelped, exasperated.

 “.....Are you familiar with the Pixar lineup of films?”

 Minseok desperately wanted to facepalm, but he would have to settle for not almost crashing the car a second time.

 "I swear to god, you’re such a little kid.”

 “Excuse me,” Jongdae scoffed, placing his hands on his hips, “I am your most esteemed guest.”

 “Okay, most esteemed guest.”

 “I’m leaving you a bad Yelp review.”

 Minseok simply shook his head and chuckled to himself as he pulled the car into the Cineplex parking lot, jerking the green Beetle to a stop.

 They climbed out of the car and shut the doors firmly, before walking onto the sidewalk and up the ramp that lead to the theatre.

 The rich scent of greasy popcorn and neon arcade lights were almost alluring, and before Minseok could stop him, Jongdae was already sprinting to the ticket booth and pecking at all the shiny buttons.

 “What are you doing?” he hissed, grabbing his friend by the crook of the arm and dragging him away.

 “I’m buying tickets,” Jongdae replied, using his free hand to swipe his credit card into the machine.

 “You’re serious?”

 He simply turned to Minseok, giving him an impatient look.

 “Toy Story 4 is nothing to joke about.”

 Minseok gaped. “You still haven’t watched that? It came out like almost five months ago, in June!”

 Jongdae snatched the tickets, squishing them in his fist. “I’m a busy man.”

 He lead the way towards the concession, and Minseok had to run a bit to catch up with his friend, who was oddly enthusiastic about the overpriced movie theatre snacks.

 Minseok stood to the side as Jongdae leaned over the counter, standing on his toes, and said something that was completely inaudible in the deafening atmosphere of the overcrowded Cineplex. Heck, he had to literally part the crowd with his hands to get to the washroom. The calls of his tiny bladder were not something to be ignored.

 Once he came back, he searched around for Jongdae, which proved difficult, since he was nowhere to be found. Minseok walked circles around the concession stand and the  ticket booth, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

 “Minseok!” A hand reached up from the crowd and waved frantically. “Over here!”

 Jongdae stood by the dining area, engulfed by two bags of popcorn and at least thirty dollars worth of candy pinned under his chin and elbows. “Where’d you go? You left me to carry all this stuff by myself!” he complained, shoving a bag of popcorn into Minseok’s empty hands.

 “I-I went to the washroom? Is that a crime?”

 “The movie’s about to start,” Jongdae said, rather lamely, stuffing a bag of Jolly Ranchers into his pants pockets. “It’s theatre seventeen.”

 Minseok nodded, unsure of what to do with the monstrous bag of popcorn in his arms as his friend dragged him into the theatre, quickly showing the unhappy looking teenage employee their tickets, and racing down the hall to the entrance of the theatre.

 They grabbed two seats near the back of the theater, right by the aisle.

 “The show hasn’t even started yet, and you’re already eating?”

 Jongdae stopped mid-chew to meet Minseok’s incredulous eyes and shrugged.

 “I didn’t have lunch.”

 The lights suddenly dimmed around them, and Minseok put his head back to relax in the plush theatre seat.

 Once the classic Pixar lamp intro started playing, Minseok found himself not paying attention to the actual film at all, and instead stealing occasional glances at Jongdae.

 When Little Bo Peep showed up on screen, he didn’t even look up. He was too focused on study the Jongdae’s face, who seemed utterly and completely in awe.

 “The animation is so cool,” he said, between fistfuls of popcorn. Jongdae grinned like a little kid.

 “It’s so cool.”

 Seeing how excited his friend was almost made Minseok want to watch the movie. He had already seen it at least twice; once when Luhan dragged him to the premiere, twice when Irene had pirated the film on the cafe television for the customers to watch.

 It hadn’t even been twenty minutes, but Jongdae’s enormous popcorn bag was already half-empty, and his face shone with buttersalt.

_~~I~~_ ~~_want to lick it off._ ~~

 “Did you see that?” Jongdae grabbed Minseok’s arm, trapping it in a death hold and shaking him like a rag doll. “Did you see that? Did. You? Bo Peep is such a badass!” Minseok’s pullover sleeve was definitely going to stink of rancid milk fat tomorrow, if he didn’t die from motion sickness the way Jongdae pulled him back and forth.

 “Calm down!” he said loudly, causing a few less than impressed movie watchers to turn.

 “But Minseok! Did you see it?”

 “Yes, I did!” he replied, annoyed, shrugging off the extremely clingy boy attached to his sleeve. There were already darker spots of grease pooling on the hoodie, but he wasn’t as upset as he should be.

 “Care to share the candy you brought earlier?” Minseok asked, extending a hand under the seat to Jongdae.

 “Blue’s your favourite color, right?” Jongdae asked, pressing a handful of raspberry Jolly Ranchers into his hand. Minseok almost blushed.

 “Thank you,” he whispered.

 Jongdae didn’t seem to hear him, utterly immersed in the world of Woody and Buzz.

 The rest of the movie passed in relative silence, with a few squeals from an easily excitable Jongdae that grabbed onto Minseok’s arm, and some irked glances, but eventually, Minseok gave up all together, knowing that it was a lost battle.

 If anyone else were to do this to him, he’d probably strangle them with the sweater sleeves; the neat freak he was. But Jongdae was, well….

 “Psst.”

 “What?” How dare Jongdae interrupt him the exact moment he was actually paying attention to the movie!

 “Can I have your popcorn? I finished all of mine.”

 Minseok glanced at his nearly full bag, and then at Jongdae’s discarded sack, polished clean and tipped over on the floor.

 “You ate all of that?”

 More movie watchers turned around, fingers pressed to their lips.

 “I did, and I’m not ashamed.”

 “That’s eighty grams of fat!”

 “Can I have it or not?”

 Minseok took a look at his popcorn, and then at Jongdae, who was doing the evil eyelash thing that got him each and every time. He smiled like a douchey Cheshire cat.

 "Fine, take it."

 “You’re the best, Minseok.”

 After about half-an-hour more of screen-staring, sweater tarnishing, and popcorn crushing, the credits began rolling, and the lights slowly brightened. The two collected their trash and hopped down the stairs.

 “It was such a good film,” Jongdae gushed, eyes sparkling.

 “At least your hoodie isn’t ruined,” Minseok griped, throwing the candy wrappers and empty popcorn bags in the trash.

 Jongdae’s expression softened. “Sorry about that. I’ll wash it if you want.”

 “No, it’s….fine,” Minseok insisted, suddenly feeling bad.

 “Are you sure?” Jongdae asked. “I have the best Downy Unstopables at the apartment. They’re shimmery!” He made a rainbow gesture, and Minseok was suddenly reminded of that Spongebob meme.

 “Yeah, thanks though,” he replied, with a big grin. He bit his cheeks hard enough to inflict pain that reminded him not to double over and laugh so he wouldn’t look like a creep in a crowd of people.

 They walked directly back to the parking lot, although they got sidetracked a few times because Minseok had no idea where the car was.

 “Did you have a good time?” Minseok asked, once they had finally found the lost Volkswagen.

 “It was great,” Jongdae replied, a peaceful grin spread over his face.

 The drive home was relatively unriveting, partly because Jongdae had coaxed Minseok to turn on his Spotify radio; that consisted mainly of girl groups and Stray Kids. He wondered if Chanyeol and Minseok would ever get together to compare notes on Twice.

 “I’m so done for the day,” Minseok complained, easing the Volkswagen into the Golden Groves parking lot. He talked over Heartshaker, while humming the tune at the same time-which shouldn’t have even been possible.

 They had spent almost three hours in that movie theatre and the sky was already spotted with streetlights, giving off a toasty glow along with the freshly set sun.

 Slowly, Jongdae pushed open the door and climbed out onto the curb.

 “Have a good night, Jongdae.”

 “Yeah you too, Minseok.”

 Minseok sat there for a few moments, watching Jongdae pull open the lobby doors and walk inside before he just stared down at his lap, blanking out for a while. His fingers brushed something cold and metal as his hands reached to the steering wheel; without missing a beat, Minseok rolled down the window and shouted outside.

 "Jongdae! You forgot your blowdryer!"

 Suddenly, he felt a draft brush across his arms.

 Jongdae had somehow returned, with the car door pulled open in his arms. In a sudden, swift movement, he clambered over the passenger seat and wrapped his arms around Minseok’s neck, pulling him into a hug-Jongdae, pressed close to him, patting his back gently.

 Then, in a flash, it was over. He grabbed the blowdryer and grinned.

  “Thanks for today. I really enjoyed it.”

 As soon as he left, Minseok’s face immediately burst into a bright smile that didn’t cede for the rest of the day.

 In fact, he was pretty sure he was smiling all throughout his sleep.

 

 

 

 

 


	18. A Co-Worker Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because Sunny finally realizes that three people can't realistically keep a business alive, she hires a fourth. Unfortunately, some people just don't get along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D.O. is enlisting in July....stan Twitter is just flooded with SM hate comments by now. I mean, if I ran the agency, I'd actually just make all the EXO members enlist at the same time. Lots of groups haven't had comebacks in one year and eight months(think f(x), After School, Pristin, soon to be EXID, kinda Vixx, 2PM). Please correct me if I'm wrong. Anyways, hats off to D.O. for making his own decisions.
> 
> This chapter is more of a plot device than anything else. I feel like my everything(grammar, conventions, writing) is regressing at this point.
> 
> :) 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and have a nice day!

 The alarm clock rang, and Irene bolted upright in bed as one hand reached to shut it off, and the other rubbed her eyes. Without checking the time, she already knew it was just past daybreak; she woke up at the same time every morning. She kicked her Totoro slippers(a birthday gift from Wendy), from under the bed and slid them on, swinging on leg over the other. Irene stretched on her way to the washroom, groaning at the residual soreness in her limbs, still aching from yesterday’s line of work.

 The door rattled slightly against the frame, and she grumbled a curse, crossing her fingers. Joy was such a light sleeper, and she hoped it wouldn’t wake her up. Irene felt sorry for the girl; she had been staying up all night all week just to finish her commissions and it looked like the budding poet needed some rest. Yes, Joy was a poet; one that worked around the clock, or whenever she felt like it. Her work practically exuded artistry. Irene ran her hands under the bath faucet; the temperature was ice-cold as expected. She checked herself out in the mirror as she waited for the water to warm up.

 As soon as she stepped inside, the shower fogged up, and she let the water run in cool rivulets down her back; the torrents soaked her hair and skin with with a soothing pulsation. Scrubbing her favourite shampoo between her hands(it was watermelon scented, and shimmery pink), Irene worked it up into a foamy lather, piling up the bubbles on her head. She inhaled deeply and the summery fragrance filled the washroom.

 Unintentionally, Irene found herself humming Red Flavour, and she reached for the bar of grapefruit soap, turning up the water to drown out her singing. Once the suds had been washed clean from her body, she cranked the handle down with an unpleasant creak and stepped out the shower, wrapping herself in a fluffy pink bathrobe.

 Her hair got a quick blow dry and she threw on her work outfit.

1\. A billowy white blouse with a high neckline, pearly snap buttons, and a ribbon around the ruffled collar.

2\. Fitted dress pants-black, that went down to her mid calves.

3\. Plain work loafers over white socks.

 Irene didn’t bother to put on too much makeup; people were always telling her she didn’t need it, and her reply would be to smile back politely. Unless if you were male, in which she would tell the offending prick to back off.

 Taking a few seconds out of her day to pack Yeri’s lunch, Irene carefully wrapped a turkey-cheese sandwich, and tossed together a fruit cup, a juice box, and a sack of Goldfish crackers. When she was ready to leave, she slung her trench coat over one shoulder, and a canvas bag over the other. Once again, she shut the door as gently as she could-and took the elevator downstairs.

 Usually, if not always, the morning shift was hers. Her master key(the one painted with glitter peach nail polish), hung around her neck. There was a touchpad at the front of the cafe, but Irene had forgotten the passcode long ago, and this was just easier. Without exception, she arrived first, followed by Minseok, and finally, Sunny would show up to make them all breakfast and officially start the workday.

 The sky was more orange than blue, and not being one to take chances, Irene took the main path towards the cafe, so she could be seen visibly under the streetlight. More than once, she had narrowly avoided a few advances. A lesson had been learned, which caused her to carry pepper spray in her bag as an extra safety precaution.

 She unwound the lanyard and shoved the key into the lock, twisting it as hard as she could. The door sprang free with a click, bathing the inside of the cafe in an eerie dark light. Tentatively, Irene took her first steps into the pitch-black dining area, feeling around for the light switch. Her fingers closed around the dimmer, and she breathed a sigh of relief, shielding her eyes from the sudden burst of light.

 Irene wrapped her hands around her bag, and walked to the back, ditching her stuff in one of the allotted metal storage lockers. She opened one and wrinkled her nose at the smell of cologne. The offender appeared to be a grey letterman jacket, several sizes too big to be Sunny or Minseok’s. In fact, the three of them could have probably worn it all at once, and comfortably too. Irene thought it was odd, but didn’t think too much of it. Her bag and coat went into the bottom locker, and she went to the front to retrieve her apron from under the counter. It smelled like green apple Lysol, and she unrolled the fabric-tying it around her waist, and quickly scooping her hair from under the neck strap. There wasn’t much to do after; she could only stand around and wait for the other baristas to file in.

 Her elbow brushed against a crusty part on her apron and she made a face. Irene shuffled to the kitchen, and bent over the sink, dripping cold water on the dirtied spot. The crusty beige disappeared, and she dabbed the cotton fabric with a paper towel to dry it off. There was something off about today, that seemed to send her intuition into overdrive. It wasn’t just the smelly jacket, or the heavy odor of body spray, but she felt like she was being watched. The hairs on the back of her neck even prickled, which was not a good sign. Each clack of her loafers on the white tile sent shivers up her spine. She grabbed a stool and sat behind the counter, turning around periodically to make sure no one was behind her, or in front of her, or anywhere near her.

 Irene glanced suspiciously at her feet, and her eyes suddenly widened as a broad shadow flickered across the ground. Her heart skipped a beat, and she took a shallow breath.

 Where was her damn pepper spray when she needed it? The locker was too noisy to open, but what if the intruder had a knife, or a gun, or worse? She was too young to die, and how would Yeri and Joy fare without her? A few more rustling sounds came from behind, and Irene put her thoughts on hold to conjure the nearest weapon-esque thing-a plastic pen from her left pocket. Clutching it tightly in her fist, she tiptoed towards the coffee grinder, and past the oven.

 The shadow grew larger, and footsteps echoed throughout the kitchen. Irene tensed up her shoulders, and poked her head around the sink. A dark figure passed the corner of the room, where the refrigerator met the industrial size dishwasher, and obscured the only exit.

 Irene held the pen like a dagger in her hand. The intruder stopped, snorted, and poked their head around the sink.

 “What are you doing?”

 The pen clattered to the ground, and her foot retracted, hitting the invader straight in the jaw. The man-(it was a man, right?), went flying back, and his head clipped the cupboards. He slunk down to the floor limply, groaning. Irene let out a guttural scream and grabbed the paring knife off the tiled wall.

 Looking downwards, she could see that he frankly, wasn’t a man at all. He looked about Yeri’s age. The strange combination of his severe eyebrows and jutting chin made him impossibly handsome, something Irene would have noticed, if she weren’t too busy holding a blade towards him in self-defense. As he stood up to his full height, he towered past her, and the top of her head barely came up to his shoulders. A tiny apron hung lopsidedly from his broad frame, and Irene’s nose twitched.

 “What the hell?” he screamed, his voice slightly cracking in the way that only teenage boys could procure.

_You fucker,_ Irene thought. The front of his apron was embroidered with white lettering-EXODUS, in fact, and she set the weapon down, managing one of her menacing glares.

 “Why is there a knife?! Are you going to kill me?! I’m simply trying to show up to my first day of work, and this happens! Why is my life such bullshit?!” The boy, with the body of a man, was freaking out, throwing his arms up and crying out to no one in his obnoxiously whiny voice.

 Irene growled, and the teenager pounded his fist into the wall, droning on and on about his struggles. She had thought that his brood-the angsty loser types, had died out long ago, but who knew? She herself was only 21; she had last been in high-school four years ago, and somehow, the idiots were still reproducing. Obviously, she had misjudged. He wasn’t a threat at all, and she replaced the knife.

 “And really?! Attacked at knifepoint on my first day?! By a girl?!” He facepalmed, and kicked the wall with one of his dirted Vans; yellow, with unflattering shark teeth on the sides. She couldn’t say the same for his face, but his hair was ugly with a capital “u”. It was gaudy rainbow, like Fruity Pebbles, but somehow muddier and combed into a fringe. For god’s sake, he looked like the son of a K-pop idol, and 6ix9ine.

 The little brass bell clinked, and Irene hadn’t been happier in a whole week. Minseok, looking unbearably pleasant like the morning person he always was, unwound his scarf and raised his eyebrows.

 “And why do all my friends have good jobs, while I’m stuck here, about to be making coffee. I thought I’d get a free breakfast, not a brush with death!” The teenage boy wailed, reminding her a lot of Jongdae.

 “Who’s this?” Minseok asked, taking off his bomber jacket, and raising an eyebrow. Irene got up, and handed him his apron, which he took graciously.

 “Her?” The boy looked up, and widened his eyes. “The hoe’s batshit crazy!”

 “Watch it!” Irene snarled. “I came to work as usual, and he snuck up on me. I was merely defending myself.”

 “Sorry, what?” Minseok raised, then lowered his eyebrows. He joined her behind the counter, still keeping an eye on the rando attacking the kitchen wall.

 “I grabbed a knife, and I almost stabbed him,” Irene said, casually. She blew a lock of hair from her face.

 “Why does he have an apron? And do we even know him?”

 “I sure as hell ain’t talking to anybody who looks like that!”

 The boy turned around and blew a raspberry. She returned it, and sulked.

 🖋🖋🖋

 Sunny flung open the door with a bright smile. “Good morning! I see you’ve all made yourselves acquaintanced!”

 “Don’t kick the kitchen wall,” she told the boy, whom she passed on her way to the storage lockers. Sunny tossed in her purse, and unbuttoned her coat, humming cheerily under her breath. Minseok and Irene simply stared, slack-jawed as they watched their boss skip circles around the grumbling teen, completely unfazed by the presence of a total stranger.

 “Did everyone sleep okay? You guys look really nasty.” Breakfast today was waffles, with copious amounts of cream and apricot jam. Sunny even waved over the boy to eat with them.

 “What are you doing?” Irene hissed, holding up her waffle to her mouth.

 “Serving breakfast.”

 Minseok shook his head. “Why is there a stranger here? We don’t know him-”

 “Really?” Sunny reached into her breast pocket, and pulled out a tiny metal nameplate. “Silly me.” She turned towards the rainbow boy, and handed him the nametag.

 “Everyone, this is Sehun. Oh Sehun, or Sehun Oh, whatever you want to call him. He’s your new co-worker.”

🌈🌈🌈

 According to Seulgi, some personalities just didn’t click. Sehun and Irene were a textbook example.

 On Monday, he had spilled a whole cup of scalding hot chocolate over the front of her shirt. Thankfully, her chest had only sustained minor injuries, but when Irene complained about the unsightly brown stain that covered half of her favourite blouse, Sehun laughed in her face and stormed off.

 And on Tuesday, there was that whole commotion over the bagels.

* * *

_“I’m here for my free bagels.”_

_“Free?” Sehun raised a bold eyebrow. “We don’t give out anything for free. According to my boss, Sunny-”_

_“Shut it, Sehun.” Irene pushed him aside. “The deal’s over, Jongdae.”_

_“What?” Jongdae sputtered and crossed his arms. “But I’m still bogged down by Yeri. I still have to walk her home everyday!”_

_“And she’s not dead yet. I thank you for that, but if you don’t remember, the deal was a month long. It’s the goddamn third month.”_

_“What do you mean? I haven’t even had breakfast! This is the only thing I eat everyday besides Frosted Flakes!”_

_“She means,” Sehun stepped in front of Irene, blocking her tiny frame with his own large stature, “that you pay, or you leave.”_

_“B-but I’m literally living in poverty! I’ve had to cut down my toilet paper use by half!”_

_“Sorry, and thank you,” Irene replied, wrinkling her nose._

_“Now, I only wipe twice instead of four times!”_

_“GET OUT!” Sehun boomed, pointing a finger towards the entrance._

_“I want my bagels!” Jongdae stamped his foot, yelling at the top of his lungs. In response, Sehun simply grabbed him by the crook of his elbow and dragged him towards the exit._

_“Hey!” Irene shouted, running after them. She wrested them apart, and panted fiercely, pointing a finger in Mr. Rainbow Hair’s uncomfortably photogenic face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” She sounded terrifying._

_“I’m getting this loser out of here.”_

_Irene’s eyes burned with anger. Who did he think he was? The employee of the century? A nightclub bouncer?_

_Stupid bitch, she thought._

_“He’s not a loser. Don’t speak to my friends that way.” She took another step, deliberately challenging him. Jongdae slunk back, and Sehun shoved him forwards._

_“Don’t touch him,” Irene said again, plainly. “Or I’ll kick your fucking ass.” She turned on her heel, leaving the two boys._

* * *

  When Sunny was around, Sehun was the ass-kisser of the century, scrubbing toilets, pouring coffees, and being the model of customer service. When she was gone, he turned into a little demon. If he wasn’t lazing around, he would be relentlessly trying to make Irene’s life a living hell.

 She didn’t understand; even the regular patrons of the cafe(like the old couple that lived across the street, or the young blogger with the green streak in his hair), found him charismatic, and he seemed to click with everyone. Even Minseok had warmed up to him, and they were on good terms.

* * *

  _“She even looks like a bitch,” Sehun whispered to Minseok, when they were working the night shift. They were loading the dishwasher together; Irene and Sunny had already checked out and both went home early._

_“Her? Trust me, she’s a good person, and really nice. You’ll just have to get her to warm up to you a bit. Maybe you two could get closer.”_

_“Closer? I’m not getting any closer to her.”_

_“Closer? I’m not getting any closer to him.” Irene laughed off the suggestion as Minseok stood beside her; they were dutifully grinding coffee beans during their shared morning shift-thankfully, Sehun the anti-christ didn’t work when he had school._

_Unfortunately, as she had learned, he went to the same high school as Yeri; they even shared a math class, and even according to her sister, he was obnoxious but not all that bad._

_“Have you smelled the dollar-store body spray that he wears? I don’t think any girls come up to him, let alone boys.”_

_“I feel like if we were all friends, work would be a lot easier,” Minseok chimed, rotating the handle to crush the fragrant beans._

_“Seulgi’s right, some people just can’t get along. Like you and Jongdae. You two get along great-Sehun and I, not so much.”_

_“W-what?” Minseok half-asked, half-grumbled. His cheeks pinked._

_“I just really fucking hate Sehun, okay?”_

* * *

_**“She seems like she’s perpetually on her period, or something.”** _

_**“And his god-awful hair, too! It’s like he went to the hairdresser, couldn’t decide, and just got them all. It looks like a Pinterest craft gone wrong.”** _

_**“She looks like a piece of plastic. Zero personality, you know what I mean?”** _

_**“I don’t listen to what he says at all because I respect myself. He’s fucking obnoxious.”** _

* * *

 By the time Thursday rolled around, they hadn’t spoken at all, and were dancing light steps around each other. Irene wouldn’t even look in the same direction as him, and Sehun would go out of his way to be annoying under the table. It was the subtle things, like flipping her off behind her back, or standing on his toes to poke fun at her lack of impressive height.

 Irene had had enough, so at breakfast time, she didn’t even think. She asked Minseok for the saltshaker, and he watched with a thin-lipped smile as she tipped half the salt(meant for the poached eggs)into Sehun’s beloved hot chocolate-the powdered kind that he drank at every sitting.

 She smiled innocently; Jongdae had played the very same prank on her, and she watched as he downed half the drink in one gulp-and it sprayed out of his mouth, dripping across the floor. Minseok pulled his collar up to his nose; he knew he shouldn’t laugh, but he did anyways.

 Immediately, Sehun’s expression twisted into a mask of fury, and he grabbed Irene by the shoulders, slamming her into the wall.

 “You fucking bitch!” he said, voice-cracking on every syllable. She kneed him and he went stumbling back, letting out a guttural cry.

 “What is going on?!” Sunny demanded, storming from the kitchen and waving her spatula angrily in the air.

 “She poisoned me!”

 “He attacked me! He’s been nothing but a pain in the ass to me this whole week!”

 “She’s the one who started it all! If she hadn’t pointed a knife at me-”

 “ENOUGH!” Sunny demanded, rubbing her temples. “You two are coworkers! Do you know what that means?! You two will have to learn how to work together! Learn to work together then! If you can’t, then I will find people who can! Is it really so hard?!” She took a deep breath.

 “Sehun, don’t be a dick. Also, have a glass of water. Your face is getting all red. And Irene, don’t be a bitch.” Sunny waved her spatula like a wand. “I’ll pretend that never happened. Now go, do your jobs.” 

* * *

 “Let’s wait out here for my sister,” Yeri suggested, kneeling down on the dying square of lawn in front of the cafe. November was warmer this year, but the plants were not being treated kindly in spite of that; all the trees hung bare, and the grass was mostly brown, then yellow.

 Jongdae opted to stay standing, looking into the cafe as if he were window shopping.

 “Missing someone?” Yeri asked, both knowingly and teasingly.

 “Missing my damn bagels.”

 “You know, Sehun’s in my math class. It got me thinking, maybe I should get a job.”

 “Yeah?”

 “Yeah. I could go pick flowers, like you.” Yeri curled her knees to her chest.

 “OKAY, being a florist is more than just-”

 “Or if Sunny’ll hire me, I can be a barista too. I could use the money.”

 They both peered through the cafe window. Irene was standing by the counter, taking orders from a long line of customers, while Minseok rushed around with a notepad and a pen, messily scribbling orders. In the kitchen stood a tall figure, unmistakably Sehun, elbow deep in kneading a lumpy mass of beige dough. He dumped the mass into a stainless steel bowl, and picked his nose. Without washing his hands, he stuck them back in the lump of dough, causing Yeri and Jongdae to wince.

 “I hope those weren’t the bagels.” Jongdae shuddered.

 Suddenly, a loud, splintering crash came from behind them.

* * *

  The exploding light bulb might have almost been beautiful; the shower of electric sparks looked magical, save for the tiny pieces of glass that shattered all over the floor. Somebody screamed like a girl, and the customers burst into chaos.

 “What the fuck was that?” Sehun demanded. It wasn’t hard to spot him in the crowd; he was a head taller than everyone else, not to mention his eccentric hair color. The cafe patrons parted a path for him, and he rushed to the scene.

 Minseok grabbed a dustpan and sprinted to the scene, joining Irene in picking up whatever pieces of glass they could. The light bulb fizzled and sparked before burning out lamely.

 Kicking open the door, Yeri rushed in, flanked by Jongdae.

 “Is everything okay?” she knelt down beside her sister, who held a handful of crystal shards. Irene nodded, and Jongdae grabbed a nearby trash can, watching her collect the sharp slivers without hesitation.

 “Please, keep calm,” Sehun boomed. “It’s just a common malfunction. Nobody’s hurt, which is good, right?”

 Minseok picked himself up from the ground. “We should probably change it.” He ran to the kitchen and came back with a shiny new light, holding it like a precious treasure.

 “Why are you giving it to me?” Sehun held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m not changing it.”

 “You’re the only one who can remotely reach it.” Minseok offered it again, and the teenager made a point of extending his arms above his head to demonstrate.

 “See, not tall enough.”

 “Irene, grab him a chair.” Irene dragged a stool carelessly and kicked it towards her two fellow baristas.

 “I’m not getting on the chair.” Sehun folded his arms. “I’m afraid of heights.”

 “Sehun, change it.” Minseok waved the lightbulb in his face, frowning.

 “No. Thanks.”

 “I’m tired of this shit.” Irene rolled her eyes and huffed. “You’re useless.”

 “She’s right, it’s not the time for your jokes.”

 “So, you’re taking her side now?” Sehun sounded betrayed. “Just because I want to keep my feet planted on the ground?”

 “We both know there’s no way in hell that I can reach, unless I take a truckload of steroids or I can fly,” Minseok shot back snarkily. To make a point, Irene stepped on, then stepped off the stool. Her arms didn’t even come close to the shattered remnants of the light bulb, missing the mark by at least a foot.

 “Fine.” Sehun turned around and bent over.

 “What are you doing?” Irene snapped. “This better not be one of your ass jokes.”

 “Get on my back.”

 “Sorry, what?”

 “Get on. It’s a compromise. If I carry you on my shoulders, maybe you’ll be tall enough to reach.”

 Irene made a face. _No way._

 “Just do it,” Minseok mouthed. Yeri pumped her fists, urging her sister on silently, and Jongdae snickered into his palm. She couldn’t believe this was happening.

 Slowly, she approached Sehun, and laid her palms over his shoulders, forcing him down almost double-over. With a slight jump, Irene hoisted on leg up-then the other, and Sehun firmly hooked his elbows under her knees. She wriggled upwards and jumped onto his shoulders, wrapping her legs around his neck.

 “Don’t you dare drop me,” she growled. Minseok reached upwards to hand her the lightbulb, and she patted Sehun, guiding him to the left.

 “I still can’t reach it. Go right.” They looked like a swaying tower in the wind, and Yeri was unusually anxious as she watched Sehun teeter around, looking like he was going to lose his fitting with each and every step.

 “Now go left,” Irene demanded. She strained her arms, passing the shattered bulb to Jongdae, and screwing in the shiny, new one. Once done, she was practically fighting to clamber off of Sehun, and she dropped to the ground on both feet, dusting her hands. He extended his palm to her, and she frowned.

 “What are you doing?”

 Jongdae threw the lightbulb into the garbage like a basketball, and Yeri let out a childish whoop.

 “So you’re just going to leave me hanging? High five me. We actually accomplished something together.”

 “Shocker,” Minseok said, as Irene gave Sehun a tentative high five. Her hand was a third of the size of his.

 “Can someone take my order now?” a random customer piped up.

  _Right. The customers._

 In the midst of the light bulb struggle, they had totally forgotten the very people they were hired to serve. Quickly, Irene dried her hands on her apron and dashed behind the counter. The baristas all dispersed back to their regular jobs, leaving the two stragglers standing in the corner.

 “Hey.” Jongdae tapped Yeri’s elbow.

 “What?”

 “How many idiots does it take to change a lightbulb?”

 Yeri groaned and dragged him towards the door.

 “C’mon. We’re going home.”


	19. Roommates Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jongdae is broke, and needs a roommate. 
> 
> Luckily, Yeri is there to save the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!
> 
> Another plot device...

 The credit card terminal flashed back with a row of bold letters-eight, in fact, and Jongdae’s stomach tumbled.

_DECLINED._

 “Everything alright?” the cashier asked. The little nametag that was pinned to his unsightly uniform read Tao, and he ran a hand through his hair, pushing the blond fringe back.

 “Yeah, it’s just-” Jongdae licked his dry lips, and mustered a strained smile. “I was really looking for a nice dinner tonight. My semester marks just came out, and I wanted to celebrate.” He took a step back from the cashier till, and then another.

 “Sorry man. That sucks.” Tao pushed the credit card terminal towards him. “Do you want to try again?”

_DECLINED._

 “Can you put the wine back?” Jongdae said, scratching the back of his neck.

 A hint of pity flickered over the cashier’s face, and he hesitated a second before pulling his own wallet out of his pocket.

 “What are you doing?”

 “I’m paying the rest.”

 Tao picked up a handful of bills and coins and slotted them into the cash register casually. He packed the rest of the groceries with care and held out the plastic bag to Jongdae, who took it with his head hung in shame.

 “Please, don’t give me that look. I’m just trying to help.” The cashier gave his friendliest smile.

 “Thank you,” Jongdae squeaked.

 What kind of poor loser gets their card declined twice? He practically tripped over his own feet in his hurry to leave the supermarket.

💸💸💸

 After eating his fancy-ish dinner, Jongdae poured himself a generous glass of wine and sat in front of his computer with a calculator and a journal.

 According to his bank statements, if he paid his current amount of rent, coupled with electricity, water, university bills, he would have a whopping twenty-three dollars left to spend on himself.

 As he pecked the figures into his dingy calculator, the numbers that came back were increasingly pathetic, and he sat back in his chair, groaning.

 Jongdae twirled his wine glass by the stem, admiring the way the burgundy liquid swirled around. No wonder real adults drank this stuff.

_Real adults. Who am I kidding?_

 If he worked overtime at the flower shop; something that he couldn’t do, he could live decently for the rest of November. But what about next month, and the month after that? Jongdae slammed the glass down in annoyance, and several drops splashed onto the scuffed tabletop.

  _My broke ass can’t even afford to sip this shit. Twenty-three dollars? That can’t even buy a sack of bagels. In other words, Kim Jongdae. YOU’RE FUCKED._

 Upon further calculations, if he only showered every three days, forewent breakfast, did his laundry every other week, and converted to minimalism, it would bring the tab to an impressive eighty-three dollars and twenty-five cents.

 So, he would do it. He would do it, and not suffer the humiliation of having a cashier pay for your food. Besides, he could tell his eomma that he had actually managed to save money this month. It was her firm insistence to make him an independent man in the first place.

 Irene and Yeri got at least two grand from their rich folks per month. Joy managed to top a sweet thousand, and Baekhyun’s mother was the kind of parent who more or less forced their grown children to live in their basement until they got married and had a yard full of kids. It was a miracle that they had even become roommates.

 And roommates! If he actually tried to get one on Kijiji or some other shady internet domain, it would free up five-hundred bucks, that he really needed right now. Five-hundred bucks could buy another set of Taeyeon’s tour tickets, or maybe a used Cooper Mini, if he could actually drive.

 His phone beeped.

_**Chanbaek and the Third Wheel** _

Baekhyun_and_Eggs 🥓🥓🥓 - happy end of first semester

YeollieOllie ʕ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°ʔ - congrats  
this means we’re halfway through uni

Baekhyun_and_Eggs 🥓🥓🥓 - only halfway?  
it feels like ive been dating you for longer than two years

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - right  
you two met at uni

Baekhyun_and_Eggs 🥓🥓🥓 - the only good part of school

YeollieOllie ʕ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°ʔ - stop im blushing  
good thing youre sitting across from me  
i can kiss that fucking obnoxious smile off your face

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - gross  
how’d you guys do

Baekhyun_and_Eggs 🥓🥓🥓 - 90  
grovel before me peasants  
and you

YeollieOllie ʕ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°ʔ - its an 88  
and you keep calling me dumb

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - 94

Baekhyun_and_Eggs 🥓🥓🥓 - fuck you

YeollieOllie ʕ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°ʔ - hold up valedictorian

Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 - i hate you guys

 

_Jongdaebak 🔥🌠🔥 has left the chat_

* * *

 There was a hole in the wall, and Irene was coming home in five minutes.

 Mark and Suhyun gathered around her; she had brought them both home for one of their weekly dance parties. Needless to say, it had gotten a bit wild.

 A fucking hole, and Yeri had no idea why it happened, and what she was going to do about it. It was punched clean, and a flap of drywall stuck out of it.

 “This is your fault.” Suhyun shoved Mark and clucked her tongue. “Remember that time you threw a chair in English class? One of the legs went straight through the wall!”

 “You literally jumped straight off the sofa! Shut up!”

 “What are we going to do!” Yeri hissed, clearly frantic. Her face had gone all red, then turned white.

 “It’s your fault!” Mark thumped on Suhyun’s back and she jumped slightly. “You were the one trying to do that hammer fist move, not me. And besides, you can’t dance.”

 She gasped. “You can’t sing!”

 “Can we stop assigning blame?!” Yeri reached in and pulled out a section of the wall, fisting the chunk of drywall in her hand. A rain of powder drifted to the floor, and she wiped her hand on her shirt, leaving a white stripe.

 “Somebody find me something to fill the hole with.” She scowled, and Suhyun ran off into the kitchen to search. She came back with a bread roll in hand, and Yeri stuffed it into the wall without thinking twice.

 Mark stood to the side, scowling, as Yeri hung a framed photo over the not-so obvious hole anymore, and patted down the bulging chunk of bread.

 “Do you think she’ll notice?” She turned towards him, and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

 “.....No."

🕳🕳🕳

 The odd picture had managed to go unnoticed until dinnertime. It was Joy who had discovered the misplaced frame when she had returned from washing her hands.

 Irene and Yeri were clustered around the table, noisily slurping a takeout order of tteokbokki from some obscure hole-in-the-wall restaurant. Ironic, because there was a literal hole in the wall.

 “Aw. That’s cute. It’s little Irene, and she still looks the same.”

 Irene sprang up, wiping her mouth as she rushed into the hall, squinting her eyes.

 “God, it really is me. How did this get here?”

 “It was there when I got home,” Yeri lied, looking down into her bowl.

 “I like it,” Joy said. “The only problem is, it looks a bit crooked.”

 She reached up to adjust the corner, but nothing changed. It hung slightly off the wall, and the bottom edge jutted out in an unsightly way.

 “There’s something in the wall,” Irene said, elbowing Joy. They threw the frame onto the ground, and inspected the brown lump that jutted from the drywall, like an unsightly tumor.

 “Oh my god. Don’t touch that with your hands! It could be a rat!” Joy chastised. Irene grabbed it without hesitation.

 “What the hell?”

 Yeri paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth.

 “Why is there a hole in the wall? And why is there bread in-YERI! COME HERE!”

 Slowly, keeping her head down, Yeri trudged her feet to meet her enraged sister.

 “What did I tell you about your little playdate parties?” She wasn’t loud, and Irene would never yell at Yeri, but the look in her eyes was terrifying enough.

 “Don’t ruin the house. Got it.”

 Suddenly, Irene slapped her knee and broke down into a fit of giggling. Joy jumped away, slightly and widened her eyes as the seemingly most mature girl of the bunch rolled onto the floor, and began cackling while simultaneously pounding her fist into the ground.

 “You’re going to have to scold her for a while. I just-....can’t. This is pretty funny.” Irene wiped tears from her eyes and grinned.

 “It’s really not a big deal,” Joy reassured Yeri, who looked thoroughly freaked out. “I’ll call Junmyeon, and he’ll patch it later. They left Irene on the floor, rolling around, as they both went to eat dinner.

🍲🍲🍲

 Within three days, all luxuries and frivolous goods had completely disappeared from Jongdae’s life.

 Breakfast was free, and spent at the cafe if he even bothered to get up. And forget the snack he usually brought from the vending machine after class. He needed the three or so bucks it would save. Lunch had become a sad excuse of half a sandwich, and if he was really committed, he would have the other half for dinner.

 He couldn’t stand the feeling of two day-old grease in his unwashed hair, the taste of discount ramen or going through his wardrobe at twice the normal pace. Jongdae’s only solace was sitting in bed at night and scrolling through Buzzfeed posts of other tragically poor students, shocked at how relatable they were.

🛏🛏🛏

 “Yeri, we need to talk. As much as I know you like your dance parties, I feel like it is getting too wild, and I don’t think I can leave you around with a bunch of teenagers every week.”

 “But they’re good teenagers!”

 “I know, but if you want to fool around and punch holes, maybe you can do that in your own place.”

 “Are you kicking me out?!”

 “No, I’m not. You can do whatever you want when you move out, but as long as you’re here, it’s my job to make sure you don’t die.”

 “Mark and Suhyun aren’t going to kill me!”

 “I know, but please. Let’s make some rules.”

 “.........Fine.”

🕳🕳🕳

 “Ready for tonight’s dance marathon?”

 Mark ran up to her excitedly after school, brandishing the very newest GFriend album. It had a blindingly bright holographic trim, and as excited as Yeri was, she pushed it away.

 “Where’d you get that?” Suhyun demanded, snatching the album away. It was genuine, and she pulled out a photocard of Yuju. “I’ve been looking for these damn things everywhere, and I can never find them!”

 “Hands off.” Mark took it away. “And careful with Yuju. She’s my bias.”

 “Guys-we’re not having anymore dance parties. My sister said no, after the hole incident.”

 “What?” Suhyun looked almost offended, and she nearly dropped her backpack on the ground. It caught on the collar of her houndstooth jacket, and she pulled up the straps onto her shoulders.

 “She says I’ll have to get my own place if I want to do shit like that.”

 “SHIT?!” Mark voice-cracked. “How dare she! What’s going to happen to us? The Three Musketeers!”

 “We’re the Powerpuff girls. I’m Blossom, you’re Buttercup. Yeri is Bubbles. I told you to stop calling us that.” Suhyun growled.

 “That was the last place we could hang out!” Mark somehow managed to kick a pebble aggressively, and both girls jumped away.

 It was true. Mark’s parents were helicopters, who were hell-bent on setting up their son with one of those darling girls that he was always around. And the first time they had blasted music at Suhyun’s, her dad jumped out of nowhere and screamed at them to turn it off.

 Based on reading Youtube comments alone, Yeri had half-expected him to say that there was a bigger speaker in the basement, but alas….no, there was not. Just a dusty space devoid of any furnishings whatsoever and an angry man who just really hated KPOP.

 “I’ll talk to Irene. I’m sure this won’t be the last of us.” She couldn’t believe how melodramatic her friends were being.

 Mark was running around, windmilling his arms in a frenzy, and Suhyun was swearing in at least four different languages.

_Hopeless. So hopeless._ She shook her head fervently and walked to the bus stop. 

🔆🔆🔆

 Jongdae was always the first person Yeri saw after school, and today was no different. She linked their arms together, and they walked into the apartments.

 “You don’t look good today at all.”

 “I don’t?” Jongdae frowned. “Do I smell or something? I haven’t been doing laundry for the past week.”

 Yeri unhooked her elbow and sniffed. “You didn’t need to tell me that!”

 “Sorry.”

 “But it’s true. You don’t look good at all. And you seem….irritable.”

 “It’s my new lifestyle. I’m trying to save money.”

 “How can you have a lifestyle if you look so dead inside.” She stuck her arms out and imitated a zombie shuffle, which earned a chuckle from Jongdae.

 “I only have eighty or so dollars to spend this month. I’m borderline impoverished.”

 “Impoverished. Big words.”

 “I can barely pay my rent and keep the lights on.”

 “So,” Yeri said, “get a roommate.”

 “I’ve been trying for the past month. How am I supposed to find a decent twenty-something year old in this part of the city? Period. They. Don’t. Exist.”

 Jongdae rubbed his face with the sleeve of his grey hoodie and groaned loudly. They stopped at the end of the hall on the third floor; Irene, Joy, and Yeri’s room. She tried the lock, and shook the door handle. It didn’t budge.

 “Crap.” Yeri patted her pockets. “I think I’m locked out. Crap. Irene already left for her uni classes, and Joy’s at a poetry commission.”

 “Ugh.” Jongdae simply turned around and lead her back down the hall. “Let’s go. You can just wait at my place.”

🚪🚪🚪

 He unlocked the door and stepped aside to let her in first. She entered hesitantly, like there was a murderer or worse lurking around the corner.

 Yeri kicked off her shoes: black ankle boots with rainbow stripes running down the sides, and ditched her shoulder bag on the entry table. Jongdae followed her, shutting the door behind him, and throwing his backpack into the closet. It landed with a slight squish sound, and they both wrinkled their noses.

 “It smells nice.” She ran to the dining table and sat herself down.

 “Want anything to eat?” Jongdae offered.

 “Is Frosted Flakes all you have?” Yeri joined him, standing on her toes to peek into the sparse pantry. She ran her fingers down the cupboard door; they took off a layer of dust.

 “Frosted Flakes are delicious,” Jongdae asserted, pouring himself a bowl of milk. Yeri simply shook her head.

 “I like Raisin Bran.”

 He wanted to kick her out for simply saying those four words.

 The apartment wasn’t bad; she had only been in here a few times before, and the only thing she noticed was that it was a tad smaller than the space she shared with Joy and Irene. It only had two bedrooms, and one washroom, but was pretty reasonable for the rent.

 She headed down the hall, checking out the foreign space. One door was shut tight, and looked like it had been for centuries. The other on hovered just above the door frame, letting a sliver of yellow light peek through.

 “You snoop.” Jongdae appeared out of nowhere, noisy slurping his cereal. Yeri spun around quickly and put both of her hands above her head.

 “You can go in. It’s fine.” He pointed his spoon at the closed door. “That’s Baekhyun’s old room. I haven’t been in there in ages.”

 Nodding, Yeri kicked the almost-closed door open. It rattled, and she waved aside a cloud of dust.

 “Why is it so dark in here?” she asked Jongdae. He simply shrugged in response and stood in her path, attempting to give a mini house tour.

 “Here is my closet,” he commented dully. He gestured to a large wardrobe, big enough for Yeri to stand in and stretch out her arms.

 “Then why are all the clothes on the floor?” Yeri said back, snarkily. She kicked aside a pair of black jeans, and they flew into a corner.

 “No comment. Here is my bed.” Jongdae licked his lips and set his empty bowl on a nightstand, already looking burdened from balancing an alarm clock, a lamp, and a gel air freshener.

 “I appreciate the color coordination,” Yeri complimented the matching grey and yellow sheets, embroidered with tiny flowers that would be considered girly, but she could tell that Jongdae didn’t take gender shit from anybody.

 “And those are my stuffed bears.” He pointed at a trio of Rilakkuma, one blue, one pink, and one yellow. Upon closer inspection, there was actually bear themed stuff everywhere. bear themed plastic-wrapped pencils on his work desk, bear charms hanging from every doorknob, a devoted shelf of just bear plushies.

 Either Jongdae had a thing for bears, or it was a poorly designed attempt at making a shrine devoted to Seulgi. She tried to avoid looking in the conveniently placed  wastebasket beside his bed; she didn’t know what she expected to see, but she still didn’t want to see it.

 “Your room isn’t bad. It’s pretty nice,” Yeri concluded. They left, and she made her way into Baekhyun’s old bedroom.

 It was completely sparse; the only thing left was an empty cardboard box that looked like it had been rotting there for years, and a single button pried off a PS4 controller. The ceiling hung lower than it was in Yeri’s own room, but the window was wider, and it was the same size as Jongdae’s bedroom; in itself, it seemed better than her current living conditions.

_You can do whatever you want when you move out, but as long as you’re here, it’s my job to make sure you don’t die._

_I’ve been trying to get a roommate for the past month._

 A light bulb went off in Yeri’s head.

💡💡💡

 Jongdae picked up the bottle of dish soap. Halfway through his shower, he had completely run out of shampoo, and was now standing in his kitchen; completely naked, a mound of bubbles on his head and wondering if DAWN dish detergent could be used as a hair rinse in a pinch.

 Classic college student.

🧼🧼🧼

 On Sunday, she went to the landlord’s office, and Junmyeon let her sign the lease. Her stuff was already packed into neat, purple boxes, save for her bed and remaining furniture.

 Yeri carried one in her arms downstairs, and rapped on the door abruptly, until a pair of startled black eyes met hers.

 “What the hell?!” She leapt back and took in the undignified display.

 Jongdae, clothed only by a mass of bubbles in the least helpful place possible, stood in the doorway, blinking his eyes. It took a few seconds to register, but his face flushed bubblegum pink, and he awkwardly splayed his palms to cover his crotch area, backing up to awkwardly stick his white ass in the air.

 “Fuck. What are you doing here?”

 Unfazed, Yeri pushed past him and set down the box. She didn’t know if this was a sign to come, or not.

 “This is our place now. What do you mean?”

 “WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!” He grabbed the dishsoap and used the bottle to cover his genitals as he stood up to his full height.

 “What do I mean? I’m your new roommate.”

🏠🏠🏠

 Life went on. Now, they had tteokbokki on Fridays, and her annoying teenage friends; one girl, one boy came over at least twice a week to dance to some surprisingly catchy KPOP music.

 It wasn't any different living with Yeri than with Baekhyun. For one, there was a complete lack of privacy. She would burst into his room in the middle of the night, and complain about how squeaky the pipes were in the living room, or how she suspected there were monsters hiding in the kitchen.

 Privacy wasn’t an option, or even a boundary. The only mutual rule they had was that neither of them would bring random people home. The last thing they both needed was waking up to the sounds of loud, wet sex in the neighbouring room. Yeri thought they ought to make another one; she kept waking up in the middle of the night only to fall through the toilet bowl, because a certain someone was adamant about leaving it up.

 Other than that, it was fine.

 And hey, maybe it was better than fine. Maybe it was actually GOOD. Jongdae got more money in his pocket, and Yeri got a new biology tutor….somewhat. He was pretty okay at it; it had been his very best subject in high school.

 Her bunk bed was too tall to fit through her room, and she ended up crashing on the sofa for a whole week, even though it gave her horrible neck pains. The complete lack of interior decoration in the apartment also gave her severe eye pains, which was why they were going to IKEA, on a Sunday.

 Irene drove her car to drop them off, and they headed to the restaurant to grab a bite to eat.

 Yeri opened the display case and used the tongs to grab at least twenty vegetable medallions while Jongdae helped himself to a pyramid of swedish meatballs.

 Afterwards, they looped twice around the maze-like structure of the store, before Yeri finally decided on a bed frame; lavender with a tufted headboard.

 The only problem was, it was huge-so much bigger than they had anticipated, and it took the two of them to lift it from the cart and drag it outside. There was no way they could take the bus home with the monster of a bed, and Yeri begged Jongdae to call one of his friends with an actual car.

 They ended up shoving the gigantic box into the back of a tiny green Volkswagen. It was a tight fit, and Jongdae couldn’t stop mumbling apologies and thanks to Minseok for essentially saving the two of them on such tight notice.

 Yeri called shotgun, and they piled into the car. It smelled refreshingly like lemons. The car ride was silent; any attempt of small talk was forgone because of sheer laziness. Sometime through, Jongdae’s phone rang again at an intersection. He picked it up, mumbled a few words, whined inaudibly, and put it away.

 “What was that?” Minseok asked, slightly uneasy.

 “My stupid boss, Henry. He wants me to pick up some flowers from a flower farm. He usually does it himself, but he’s being a lazy prick this year.”

 “Can you say that about your boss?” Yeri asked. Her mouth widened into an O.

 “I can’t even drive. Of course he’d do something like this to me.” Jongdae slumped in the backseat.

 The car pulled up to Golden Groves, and Yeri climbed out, running to open the trunk. She heaved the white box by herself up the curb, and dragged it down the sidewalk towards the apartment doors, grunting.

 “Can you drive a pickup truck, and are you free tomorrow?” Jongdae asked Minseok, still sitting in the car.

 “I mean, yeah?” Minseok looked up. “Why?”

 “Meet me here at seven-in-the morning. See you tomorrow.”

 He winked, gave him a quick side hug, and leapt out of the car door, rushing to help Yeri.

🌸🌸🌸

 The IKEA bed wasn't that hard to build. Between Seulgi, who was secretly a carpenting genius, and Joy, who never-ever managed to hammer her fingers, it was ready to go in no time. After work, Irene even brought Yeri’s duvet(purple, of course), and expansive collection of plush animals down for her, saving her a trip upstairs.

 The remainder of her night was spent threading tiny beads onto a string to make DIY jewelry, something that Suhyun had really gotten her into. Jongdae was already crashing in his room, citing something about “waking up early”, and “never getting seven hours”.

 She knocked on his door, even though it would make no difference. Without waiting for an answer, Yeri barged in anyways.

 He was caught, red-handed with one hand down his pants, and his head thrown back in a contorted, perverted squint. Jongdae yelped and pulled the covers over his lower half, but Yeri rolled her eyes and approached the bed without any revulsion.

 “I made you something,” she said. She held up a pink bracelet, dotted with tiny silver charms. In the middle, letter beads spelled out “Roommates Forever”.

 “Great.” Jongdae shifted uncomfortably.

 “It says roommates forever. We’re roommates forever.”

 “Yes, we are. Good night.”

 “I’ll leave this on the nightstand.” Yeri placed it on the dingy table, and clucked her tongue. “Consider getting a lock, if you’re going to keep jerking off as a hobby.”

 Jongdae’s cheeks turned red. “Go to bed!”


	20. Marigolds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jongdae and Minseok pick some flowers, and are joined by the farmhand.

 “I see you brought a guest.”

 Henry dusted off his hands on the front of his apron, and crossed the flower shop, smiling to himself. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and stopped at the doorway, closely studying Jongdae, and the stranger with blonde hair and pleasant features.

 “Yeah, I did,” Jongdae replied impatiently, walking past the rows of bouquets.

 “This is my friend, Minseok. He’s going to help me drive the truck to the flower farm and back. Minseok, meet my boss, Henry.”

 “Nice to meet you.” The blonde boy nodded politely and smiled sweetly, which immediately won Henry over. Something tugged at the back of his skull as he tried to remember why this person had looked so familiar-

 “You! You work at EXODUS, right? I’d know, cause’ my homegirl owns the place.”

 “.....What?”

 Jongdae grabbed Minseok by the elbow and lead him away. “He means Sunny. They’ve been close since their grade school days. They have a love-hate relationship, or something.”

 Henry chuckled, and put his hands on his hips.

 “You got that bit right. Anyways, pickup truck is in the back. You two should get going. You know where the flower farm is…?”

 “Yes, we searched that up on Google Maps.” Jongdae tugged at Minseok’s sleeve once more, and he wavered slightly.

 “Great. Remember to come back at the end of the day. You still have a shift to work.”

 “Yes, boss,” Jongdae said through gritted teeth. The two of them hurried to the back, leaving Henry standing alone at the front door, rattling off a list of things that they were expected to do by the end of the day.

 “I already filled the buckets with fresh water. Make sure to ask for marigolds when you get to the farm!”

 “YES!”

 Jongdae threw open the rear doors, letting in a gust of cool air. They walked into sparse parking lot, where a pickup truck, loaded with white pails, stood alone. On the side of the vehicle, a green cursive decal that read “Fancy Flowers”, jutted out like an eyesore.

 Minseok climbed into the driver’s seat, before tipping forward onto the dashboard, smacking his forehead over and over again.

 “Really? This was your idea of morning fun? Take your kid to work day?”

 “You agreed.” Jongdae buckled his seatbelt and inspected his clothes for the day; an interesting mix of an ugly green flannel shirt, and loose hanging overalls.

 “I told you we were going to a farm over text, and you left me on read.”

 “Sorry. But still-” Minseok sat up, plucked the keys from the cupholder in which they were placed, and started up the car.

 “And besides, do you look like my kid?” Jongdae whined, bouncing his leg up and down.

 “It’s a generalization! Did you think I was going to start calling you daddy?”

 “I wouldn’t mind…Yeol and Baek certainly don’t…...”

 Minseok rolled his eyes. “You’re just asking to get beat up.”

 “Kinky, babe.” Jongdae wiggled his eyebrows, and promptly got smacked.

🌺🌺🌺

 They drove for half-an-hour, and as they approached the countryside, the buildings slowly got smaller and smaller, and appeared sporadically too, replaced by fields of yellow grass, and brown stalks.

 Sooner or later, the car passed a hanging pink sign, that read “Mikrokosmos”, the name of the flower farm.The place had been supplying Henry’s business for years, and he was reluctant to buy from anywhere else.

 It was decorated with glitter paint and squiggly white lines and looked almost as ridiculous as the name itself, quite a weird title for a farm, of all things to be called.

 As Minseok turned the pickup down the gravel road, it seemed to crumble away under them. The car jumped at even the slightest grain of sand, and it lurched over every stray pebble like a massive speed bump.

 Finally, after several more minutes of a stomach-churning ride, a white barn came into sight, along with a peach-painted country house, facing a massive field, dotted with bursts of color as far as the eye could see.

 Minseok let out a slight gasp as he stopped the car by the side of the road, admiring the sight. Jongdae leaned over to prod his sides.

“Beautiful, right?”

🌼🌼🌼

 To get to where the flowers were planted, they drove a bit more, and walked the rest of the way to the middle of the sectioned-off field.

 Pulling open the glovebox, Jongdae snatched a pair of garden shears, slinging them in his right hand as he walked out to the open patch of marigolds. They looked like wadded up tissues, in shades of gold, orange, copper, and honey.

 Without hesitating, he plopped down right in the dirt and began trimming the flowers by the stems. When he had collected a bunch, he handed them off to Minseok and showed him the right way to place them in the buckets of water in the back of the truck, so they would stay optimally fresh.

 Eventually, they fell into a routine of work. Neither of them spoke much, but it was a comfortable peace, not an awkward, suffocating silence.

🌸🌸🌸

 “Why marigolds?” Minseok asked.

 Jongdae looked up. “They’re the flower of November.”

 “Huh.” He shook his head slightly.

 “They’re pretty popular for Day of the Dead. And South Asian weddings too.”

 “Weddings?” Minseok smiled out of the corner of his mouth, and Jongdae narrowed his eyes.

 “What do you mean? You wouldn’t have flowers at your wedding?” He had stopped cutting, and held the shears firmly in his grip.

 “No?”

 “Not even your dream wedding?” Jongdae let out a shocked gasp and clutched his heart.

 “My dream wedding?” Minseok looked down at the ground. “What would you have?”

 “Oh, I don’t know.” Hs friend put his hands on his hips.

 “I’d like a cake. With lots of tiers. And every tier can have a different flavour. I also want a balloon arch. My brother thinks that would be tacky, but I don’t know…”

 “Nice,” Minseok replied.

 “And you?” Jongdae looked genuinely interested.

 “A piñata.”

 “OH REALLY?! You would have a damn piñata, but not flowers?” Jongdae simply shook his head with a mixture of mock disdain, and amusement. “Think of your poor future wife! Think of the flowers that she would’ve wanted.”

 “If it were really my dream wedding, I wouldn’t be marrying a girl.”

 Minseok looked at him for a reaction. There was sheer silence, then Jongdae’s mouth dropped.

 “I mean, you went first. Was it really such a surprise?”

 “......Yes. But I’m glad.” Jongdae let his gaze fall to his feet.

 “I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me this. I’m glad we’re close enough to be real with each other.” He threw down the shears and crossed Minseok in a few quick steps, wrapping him up in a tight hug.

 His friend simply patted his back and leaned into the embrace, trying desperately to hide his grin. He buried his face into Jongdae’s neck and inhaled the scent of his skin, a mixture of Ivory soap, and old books.

 “Does anyone else know?” Jongdae asked, pulling away.

 “Actually, Irene found out at least two months before you.” Minseok admitted, earning a light whack on the top of his head.

 “Way to ruin the moment.”

🌹🌹🌹

 The ground rumbled violently and they both turned their heads up to look.

 A tractor rolled down the dirt path, dragging tire marks into the reddish brown soil. It shook the earth with every turn, causing rumbles and shivers in the ground below. At the end of the unpaved road it finally rolled to a stop, and a single girl hopped out, her purple hair whipping around her face.

 She slid down the ladder, hopping across the last three steps, and opened the storage hatch, grabbing a garden trowel. Experimentally, purple girl gave it a swing like a baseball bat, and ran over to join the two flower-pickers.

 “Good morning, Jichu,” Jongdae said. He handed another bunch of marigolds to Minseok, who arranged them inside the bucket. The girl simply smiled back at him and squatted down, dropping to her knees.

 “Who’s she?” Minseok whispered, tapping his friend on the elbow.

 “Jisoo. She works as a farmhand.”

 “It’s my summer job. But now it’s fall, so I don’t know what I’m doing here,” Jisoo said quietly, causing the two boys to startle. “And why…..are we whispering?”

 “We’re not whispering,” Jongdae said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

 “Got it.”

 She gave him a thumbs up and kicked her legs gently, bouncing them up and down on the patches of cleared dirt. Jisoo fiddled with the buttons of her flannel shirt, striped blue, white, and purple, for a few seconds, before she cleared her throat.

 “Sooo….what are you two doing here? Like, did Jongdae finally get a date? Tell me.” Jisoo rolled over on the ground to make eye contact with a panicked Minseok, coating her whole outfit in a film of soil.

 “Are you his boyfriend?” She drew a hypnotic swirl with her finger, and Jongdae slapped her hand away.

 “No! And shut up! I told you that in confidence.”

 “Sorry.” She slinked down and pouted, crossing her arms. “Are you sure?”

 “He’s sure.” Minseok collected another bundle of marigolds and placed them into the bucket, shaking out the stems.

 “Sure?”

 Jisoo clucked her tongue. “A shame. You two would make an excellent couple. And ya know, marigolds are the flower of passionate love.”

 The boys raised their eyebrows at each other-slightly, and returned to their respective work.

 “Want some help?” She crouched and began digging up the marigolds, yanking them out by the ends. The soil was crumbly and soft, sticking to the white roots, and she brushed away the mud, stacking the flowers in a pile.

 “What are you doing?” Jongdae grabbed the trowel and frowned.

 “That’s not how you do it!”

 “What do you mean?” Jisoo wiped her muddied hands on the side of her shirt, leaving brown finger streaks. She scrambled to her knees and jerked the tool back, causing Jongdae to nearly faceplant into the dirt.

 “HEY!” he wailed. His face scrunched up, and he pointed an accusing finger at Jisoo, who tucked her pin-straight hair behind her ear, and glared back.

 “Stupid!” She blew a raspberry, and Minseok offered his hand to help the both of them up.

 He walked a few steps forward, and Jisoo pulled herself from the ground. Then, Jongdae. Before he knew what was happening, the force from the drag had caused him to fall forwards and Minseok landed on his butt, directly in the patch of squishy mud.

 “Well, shit,” Jisoo remarked, leaning down to help him. Minseok waved her away and pouted.

 “This is your fault!” he said to Jongdae, who widened his eyes.

 “Well, get up! We still have work to do.”

 “Carry me.” Minseok stretched his arms out, demanding a hug, as Jisoo giggled, waiting to see what would happen next.

 Without hesitation, Jongdae grabbed Minseok by the underside of his arms and heaved him up like a giant baby, setting him down on the ground with a grunt of difficulty.

 “Carry me.”

 “I did,” Jongdae said impatiently, grabbing the discarded shears.

 “Carry me.”

 “You heard him,” Jisoo said, twirling her hair around her finger.

 “Fine.”

 Jongdae bent down in a half-squat, and Minseok hopped on his back, hooking his legs above his friend’s skinny arms. He shifted as Jongdae stood up to his full height, seemingly unbothered by the extra weight.

 “You okay?” He turned his head slightly to look at Minseok, and his nose brushed against Minseok’s cheek.

 “Yeah,” he whispered against Jongdae’s raincoat. It made him feel weird, especially with Jisoo standing right there, clapping her hands together.

 The piggyback ride didn’t feel fun, but it felt…..so strangely intimate.

 Minseok shook away the thoughts, clearing his head.

🌺🌺🌺

 “Is that it?” Jisoo asked, peering into the trunk of the pickup truck. The truckbed was an explosive mess of discarded cuttings, oddly stacked buckets, and stray flower petals.

 She closed the lid of the last bucket and dusted off her hands. Minseok hopped from Jongdae’s back and planted his feet on the ground as Jongdae shook out his shoulders.

 “I think so.”

 “Kay.” Jisoo picked up the dirtied trowel. “Thanks for coming to the farm. My boss told me I had to say that to every customer. And please, come back.”

 “Thanks, Jichu.”

 “No, I really mean it. We need to make money.”

 They bid Jisoo quick goodbyes with a few waves.

 Jongdae closed the back of the pickup and opened the front door, climbing inside. Minseok got into the driver’s seat, pushing the keys into the ignition.

 They drove all the way back to the flower shop, parking the truck in the back, and unloading the buckets, carrying them inside the shop and piling them against the back of the wall.

 🌻🌻🌻

 “Are you coming?”

 Minseok asked, gesturing to the door. He had dug the pair of keys to his Volkswagen out of his pants pockets, and held them in his grasp. His car had been sitting outside all morning by the curb, untouched.

 “No.” Jongdae grabbed his green apron off a coat hook and tied it around his waist. “I still have my shift to work.”

 “Okay.” Minseok took a step towards the entrance.

 “WAIT!” Jongdae grabbed something off the counter of the flower shop, and ran to meet him, wrapping his arms around Minseok’s waist, and burying his head in his chest. He felt something press into his back, and a rustle of fabric as his friend stepped away.

 “Thank you for coming,” Jongdae said, and ushered him out the door.

🌺🌺🌺

 Minseok stood on the sidewalk, and held the thing in his hand.

 It was a single marigold, bright orange, with a strand of yellow lace tied around the center.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I shoehorned Jisoo in here?!
> 
> She's my Blackpink bias, and for sure deserves a lot more love. YG, where is her solo?
> 
> But wait.....
> 
> *aggressively cackles in background*
> 
> Hopefully, having YG gone will mean better for the company, and they won't fall into a period of chaos and disorder.
> 
> My fingers are crossed for Blackpink, Winner, and AKMU!


	21. Hypothetically...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of Junmyeon and Yixing's short lived relationship, told through (very) disjointed moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really [M] rated, except for a tiny, tiny excerpt. Maybe read Chapter 10 for more context?
> 
> I didn't know what I was trying to do with this chapter? It's supposed to be a parody of the different kinds of fanfics(fluff, smut, angst).
> 
> Now say it with me....plot device! Perhaps I'll have to add codes to the individual chapters to streamline the reading process.
> 
> ft. SuLay, Wendy, Seulgi, and ChanBaek's cat

 “Guys night at our place.” Chanyeol picked up his beer and took a chug, the sharp yellow liquid spilling out the sides of his mouth.

 The three boys were clustered around the kitchen table, sipping coolers in utter boredom. Beside him, their cat Nala nudged his leg, batting it like a toy.

 Baekhyun simply frowned and shook his head. “But we’re missing one guy. Fuck Junmyeon.”

 “Hey!” Jongdae cried.

 “What? I simply said what we were all thinking.” Nala slinked back into the living room and curled up in a corner like a furry ball.

 Chanyeol wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and set down his drink on the table, frowning.

 “That’s not fair to him. Who knows what he could be doing right now? He could be in the ICU, or fighting demon clowns, or watching Treehouse cartoons!”

 “He’s probably with Yixing,” Jongdae pointed out, playing with the corner of his shirt.

 “True, but the two of them could be doing practically anything!” Chanyeol said.

 “Practically anything?” Baekhyun rubbed his temples. “Bros before bros!”

 “Maybe he simply forgot which bro was which!”

 “What the fuck is more important than your friends? Than our traditions?”

 “Yeah!” Jongdae added, whining. “What are they doing that is just so damn important?!”

 Chanyeol took another swig and leaned across the table, drawing the two other boys in. “Here’s my guess."

* * *

_The day after their one night stand, Yixing did something he’d usually never do._

_Stay._

_All the girls and boys he had screwed, but he couldn’t remember feeling this attached after seventy-two hours of fooling around with a man who he barely knew, let alone his new landlord. He wanted to know everything about Junmyeon, hell, even cherish him, trace his fingers across Disney prince-esque features._

_Did the universe push him into his path for a reason? Or was Yixing just a hopeless romantic with a cured case of blue balls, and throwing himself at the first person he met?_

_The little, posh pancakes that Junmyeon was frying in a pan smelled great, and he brewed tea instead of coffee, which was a start. They sat down for breakfast in his quaint little kitchen-it even had a decorative rooster hanging from the wall._

_“You know you can ask for anything, right?” Junmyeon had said, gesturing to the jams and butters he had set out on the table. To his utter dismay, Yixing was eating his pancakes plain._

_So, Yixing mustered up the scraps of his courage, and asked for the sweetest thing on the table._

_A real, and proper date with Junmyeon himself._

* * *

_Two weeks into dating, and surprisingly, the biggest fans of their relationship were none other than the two girls of room number one-hundred and nine; Miss Wendy, and her partner in crime, Seulgi._

_They were always around._

_Wendy came over every Tuesday and sat at the kitchen table doing her university papers in sync with Junmyeon, but only because they had related majors._

_And Seulgi had begged Yixing to teach her a few moves. She was an excellent dancer in and out of herself, and even had the abs to match. At night, whenever she wasn’t painting or doing some of her artist-related stuff, she would secretly practice in her room until Wendy came and yelled at her for blasting Red Velvet and interrupting her precious sleeping hours._

_Whenever the two girls would catch Junmyeon or Yixing doing something cliche, and awfully couple-like, they would stop to coo, or snap a few images. It was the simple things, where they would hype the two up whenever they were about to kiss._

_They were their biggest shippers after all. Even if Minseok hated the fact that all of Yixing’s hours were now spent with his landlord boyfriend and Baekhyun wanted to punch whoever was keeping guys night from being complete, Wendy and Seulgi opened their wallets in no time to get the two of them reservations at the most exclusive steakhouse in town._

_When they got home at night, they didn’t even mind that Seulgi was stealing generation-old recipe cards from the wooden box that used to belong to Junmyeon’s grandma, and Wendy was pirating Naruto episodes onto the TV, potentially giving it a virus._

_It was enough to go to bed with a full stomach, and with Yixing falling beside him, Junmyeon’s heart was full too._

* * *

_What was the point of getting his own apartment, when Yixing was always over at Junmyeon’s anyways?_

_Junmyeon. Boyfriend. My boyfriend._

_He had to get used to rolling the words around in his mouth, no matter how many times he used them._

_He was a darling. A darling who came to each dance recital and brought him flowers and a nice dinner afterwards. A true gentleman who not only did the nicest things for him, but everybody else too. He had a face of an angel, and the heart of a lion._

_On weekends, they would hold each other on the couch. The TV would be playing a generic romance film like the Notebook, or maybe LaLaLand-it didn’t matter, because they wouldn’t be watching it anyways. Junmyeon would curl up on his lap, and whisper praises into his ear, about how Yixing was too sweet, hot, sexy, charming, smart, and all these things that described exactly how he himself actually felt about Junmyeon._

_Ah, this was the life._

_They’d kiss, and sometimes, Yixing would take Junmyeon’s hand in his, picking it up and holding out to the light._

_“What are you doing?” Junmyeon would blush and giggle-which only made Yixing kiss him again, and then want to kiss him more._

_“I love you.”_

_More often than not, at least more than he cared to admit, Yixing was imagining how a ring would look on his boyfriend’s fingers._

_He was definitely fucking delusional._

* * *

 “No way!” Jongdae shook his head vigorously and raised his eyebrows. “I think your relationship standards have been set way too high.”

 Baekhyun slapped his hand on the table. “That’s not how couples act in real life!”

 Chanyeol shrugged. “They seemed like the fluffy kind to me…”

 “I think you’re wrong.” Jongdae leaned back in his chair, causing it to squeak unpleasantly. “I mean, look at Myeon. If they were going to do anything together, it would be sophisticated and posh. Besides, even real adults have the occasional niche in their relationships. We all do.”

 “Real adults my ass,” Baekhyun swallowed. “I mean, look at us. Someone in my uni class accused me of being a drug dealer.”

 Chanyeol raised his bottle for a toast, and his boyfriend responded, clinking their glasses together.

 “I’ll tell you what’s realistic. They probably have loud, ball-slapping make-up sex, just like everyone else does. You can’t stop the hormones….” Baekhyun cleared his throat, and straightened his back.

* * *

_“Fuck,” Junmyeon grunted, bending his legs wider-impossibly wide as Yixing thrust into him, back and forth, causing moans and whimpers to leave his mouth._

_He was leaking everywhere-it was dripping between his legs, onto the cleaned sheets, and the sheer amount and volume of the noises that he was making were causing his face to heat up from embarrassment._

_At once, Junmyeon’s legs bucked up, and Yixing smirked-which was quite possibly the sexiest thing in the world. He slid out, causing a whimper, and back in, drawing out a shameless moan._

_Yixing grazed his prostate again, and again, causing the most undignified sounds to erupt from Junmyeon’s lips, pursed tight with pleasure._

_“I love you,” Yixing whispered, leaning down to kiss his collarbones._

_And that was all it took for-_

* * *

 “STOP!” Jongdae face-palmed. “I’m just going to stop you right there….”

 “But we haven’t gotten to the best part!”

 “That’s enough,” Chanyeol said, patting his boyfriend’s back. “No need to make Junmyeon’s love life into a gay erotica.”

 “Besides, you two are missing the real part of relationships-the bad parts,” Jongdae chastised. “You can’t tell the ups without the downs.”

 “Here comes the angst,” Chanyeol sighed, blowing a strand of pink hair from his eyes. Jongdae ignored Baekhyun’s exaggerated eye-rolls, and continued his story.

* * *

_“Going back to China next week?” Seulgi stood in her kitchen, balanced on one leg(which she always did, simply out of habit)._

_She picked up the tea kettle and poured the boiling water into a white mug, stirring it gently-just enough so the spoon clinked against the sides of the cup. Blowing on it to cool it down, she brought it to the dining table, and set it down._

_“Red velvet cake tea. My favourite. Calms me down, at least better than those salt lamps.”_

_“Thank you.” Yixing took the mug with two hands, and sipped it sparingly. It was almost cloyingly sweet._

_She sat opposite of him, and tugged her ponytail tighter. Today, her glossy brown locks were tied at the nape of her neck, and ran down the back of her yellow sweater in a waterfall of hair._

_“I’ll miss you a lot. I really mean it. Besides, you taught me so many dance moves! I’ve been practicing in my room at night-I can almost body roll as well as you!”_

_He grinned. “Wanna bet?”_

_“I think Myeon would have a heart attack if we ever did that in front of him.”_

_She chewed her crumpet noisily, and swallowed, pointing at the bitten section still in her hand._

_“You’re coming back, right? Not staying in China….”_

_“Of course.”_

_“Good. When you come back, bring me some of those lucky candies. The strawberry flavoured ones. Wendy loves those.”_

_“Okay.”_

_Seulgi studied Yixing’s face, and leaned back in her chair._

_“You’ll miss him a lot, right? But please, don’t. He’ll miss you just as much as you miss him.”_

_“God! Seulgi, it’s not like anyone’s dying! We’ll still talk-there’s Skype, and landlines...”_

_“I swear though, if you don’t come back and you leave him absolutely wrecked…...Yixing, I will personally swim all the way to China, beat your ass, and drag your body across the Pacific ocean.”_

_Seulgi cleared her throat and flashed him a daring smile._

_He sipped his tea._

* * *

_Later, when they went to bed, neither of them could sleep, so they simply kept stared at each other, trying to burn the mental image onto the backs of their eyelids._

_Junmyeon rolled over, until their noses were touching. “I’ve loved you for only four weeks, but I feel like I’ve loved you for four decades.”_

_Yixing smiled his dimpled smile at the words and brushed Junmyeon’s cheek lovingly with the back of his hand._

_“I’ll love you for four lifetimes, if that’s what you want.”_

_“Please.” Junmyeon lay his hand on top of Yixing’s. “Don’t say that. You’re going to make me cry, and I’m really tired. I really need my sleep, but I also want to be here with you.”_

_“My flight leaves at seven in the afternoon, tomorrow. We can stay up all night if you want, and sleep all morning, if you want.” Yixing cocked an eyebrow, and Junmyeon settled on his chest, tangling their bare legs together._

_“I’d like that.”_

* * *

_The next morning, he drove Yixing to the airport in his pink van, and walked him to the baggage check-in._

_For the last time in whoever knew when, Junmyeon slid his hands into Yixing’s hair, kissing him with such ferocity that they collided into the flight attendant’s desk. They broke apart with a slightly wet suction noise, and Yixing stroked his chin with his thumbs, whispering silent love confessions over and over again-promising that he would call the moment he stepped off the plane and into China._

_Wendy was standing outside of his apartment when he returned home, carrying an awful sinking feeling in his stomach._

_She brought him a silver locket, and reminded him to go to guys night for the first time in weeks. Seulgi had drawn Yixing’s and Junmyeon’s likenesses on a piece of card, and placed in firmly inside the jewelry._

_He nearly had a mental breakdown._

* * *

 “I’m crying,” Baekhyun said dryly, slightly slurring his words.

 “It’s raining outside,” Chanyeol noted. He emptied the rest of his beer down his throat, and tossed the bottle under the sink into their makeshift recycling bin.

 The doorbell rang, and Jongdae ran to the door, standing on his toes to look through the peephole.

 It was Junmyeon, looking thoroughly soaked and miserable.

 “It’s Myeon,” he said.

 “Let him in,” Baekhyun replied.

 He pulled open the door and Junmyeon walked in, shivering and drenched from head to toe. His usually pale face was now ashen white, and he wrapped his arms around his sides, keeping his gaze down.

 “Where have you been? Where did you go?” Chanyeol rushed to his side, handing him a kitchen cloth so he could towel himself off.

 “I HATE YOU!” Baekhyun shouted.

 Junmyeon took it graciously and dried his hair, shaking out the limp brown locks. “I just sent the love of my life to the airport. Let me catch a break.”

 “So quick?” Jongdae gaped. It seemed like just yesterday when he had caught Minseok complaining about his Chinese friend. “What happened? All the kissing, and the-”

 “-The time you wasted with him instead of with us!” Baekhyun finished, stamping his foot.

 “Listen. I’ll tell you everything when I feel like it.” Junmyeon sighed and rubbed his face. A silver pendant swung around his neck, and he pressed it to his heart.

 “Now give me a fucking beer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zimzalabim zim-zimzalabim...Zim-zimzalabim zim-zim...Zimzalabim zim-zimzalabim...Zim-zimzalabim zim-zim...Zimzalabim zim-zimzalabim...Zim-zimzalabim zim-zim...


End file.
